the stars shine a different shine
by DiscordianSamba
Summary: Ever since he first read about the Calypso mission, Shiro has dreamed of the stars. When he finally gets his chance to go to them, he's elated. What he doesn't expect is meeting and befriending the Galaxy Garrison's problem pilot- or how much said meeting would end up changing his life. (or, a roleswap au between keith and shiro)
1. leo, of first meetings

I was halfway through writing the next chapter of _anomalous point_ when this idea hit me like a freight train and refused to let go. So I went ahead and wrote it! This is as much an age swap between Keith and Shiro as it is a partial roleswap- Keith is the one who goes on the Kerberos mission, but they keep their canon lions, so Shiro is still black paladin and Keith is still the red paladin. Champion Keith!

But this isn't what *this* fic's about- this one is about before all that. I wanted to write how they would meet in this AU, while hinting at backstory for Keith. I'll probably revisit this verse at some point in the future, though I doubt I'll ever write a proper multi-chapter fic for it. Just oneshots probably!

* * *

**leo, of first meetings**

* * *

The first time he saw him, Shiro thought he was seeing things.

There was no other reason for someone to be perched on the edge of one of the tall guard towers that flanked the Garrison's perimeter. Especially not someone who wasn't in a guard uniform, or any discernible uniform at all. He was pretty sure those were off limits to anyone who _wasn't_ a guard, or at least someone very important.

He looked away for exactly a second to tell his dad, but when he looked back, the person was gone. He blinked, squinted, but looking closer didn't cause the mysterious figure to resurface, so after a moment's thought, he put it out of his mind. He'd barely had any sleep on the flight over, so the jetlag was starting to get to him.

He didn't know it then, but that would become his first encounter with Keith Kogane.

It wouldn't be his last.

* * *

Life at the Garrison was an adjustment.

He'd never lived in a dormitory setting before, and he'd never been this far away from home before either. His parents had wanted him to train at a Garrison campus a bit closer to where they lived- _close _being a relative term, seeing as the base closest to his home wasn't even located in the same _country_. He'd insisted on this one, though- and for good reason.

This was the Galaxy Garrison's premier base. It was the central hub of all Garrison activities, where the best pilots went to train, and where the newest ships were designed, built, and tested. And since he had the scholarship and all, he wasn't about to put it to waste.

_Legends _came out of this base- and Shiro wanted to _be _one of those legends.

That said, the adjustment was... difficult at first. More difficult than he had expected. It wasn't the military setting he had a problem with- he was used to getting up early, and generally didn't have a problem following orders. Honestly, he didn't even know what it was. He just felt out of place, awkward. He struggled to make any real friends- outside of his roommate, that was.

He'd been nervous about having one initially, worried that they wouldn't get along. But Adam Warner had dashed all of those fears, and the two of them became fast friends almost before either of them realized it. Adam had arrived on campus a month prior to Shiro- something about family circumstances, circumstances that he hadn't quite built up the courage to ask about just yet.

That one month had not been wasted. Adam was deeply familiar with the base- or at least, the parts first year cadets were allowed in- and a few they weren't. He wasted no time in showing Shiro around, helping him get the lay of the place. He wasn't exactly terrible with directions, but he definitely would have gotten lost at least once or twice without Adam's help.

It wasn't just places Adam knew, it was also people. There were their flight instructors, Lieutenants Kinkade and Leifsdottir, and the two more advanced flight instructors, James Griffin and Nadia Rizavi, both of whom were also lieutenants. He was surprised by how _young _they all were- only twenty-two. According to Adam, it wasn't exactly uncommon for recently graduated cadets to help instruct the new generation of cadets.

Not that they weren't talented. Griffin in particular had already broken a few records, and was just shy of being the best pilot at the Garrison.

"So if he's the Garrison's second best pilot," Shiro began, innocently enough, "-who's the best?"

"That's Keith." Adam told him.

"Keith?" Shiro repeated. No rank, no title- just his first name. It struck him as being a little odd. "Is he one of the fighter pilots?"

"Not exactly." Adam said. "Technically he's not _with _the Garrison at all. He's a mercenary that Commander Holt hired to test his experimental prototypes. Came on a few months ago."

Shiro frowned a bit at that. He knew that the Garrison sometimes brought civilian pilots into its ranks, but a _mercenary_? He'd never heard of the Garrison bringing in a mercenary before.

"Which one is Commander Holt again?" Shiro asked.

"The one with the gray hair and the glasses." Adam told him.

Shiro's frown deepened. "Adam, I don't know if you've noticed, but there's more than one officer here with gray hair and glasses."

"He's the nice one." Adam supplied.

"Ah." Shiro said, suddenly understanding exactly who he meant- or at least, which one he didn't. "That one."

"That one." Adam echoed. "It was a pretty unpopular decision. Apparently the commander found the guy while he was touring war zones as a part of the Garrison's relief efforts."

Shiro grimaced a bit at that. "You'd think after three world wars, people would be kind of tired of them."

"You'd think." Adam agreed. "Anyways, long story short, Commander Holt saw him fly and was so impressed he invited him to the Garrison. All without consulting Admiral Sanda or anyone else in the upper chain of command, of course. I don't know if he just didn't expect the guy to take him up on the offer or if he just didn't care about the consequences."

"He's good though, right?" Shiro asked. "I mean, he kind of has to be if he's a test pilot."

Maybe it worked differently in other places, but at the Galaxy Garrison, only the best of the best got to be test pilots. It was also an extremely dangerous job, one that held none of the other glamours that were usually associated with being a pilot, so most people turned such offers down. But then he guessed compared to being a mercenary pilot, being a test pilot had to be like a walk in the park.

"Oh, he's better than just good." Adam said, arching his brows. "And get this- he's the same age as Lieutenant Griffin and the others. Word is that he even used to go to the same middle school as him back in the day."

"The same- he's _twenty two_!?" Shiro asked.

How did someone even end _up _as a mercenary at twenty two? And a pilot, no less! Whoever this guy was, he'd either been born in the cockpit of a plane, or he was just some kind of natural.

Adam shrugged. "I wouldn't mention him around Lieutenant Griffin though. It's kind of a sore subject for him."

"Duly noted." Shiro said. "So how did Commander Holt even convince the admiral to employ him? She doesn't exactly seem like the kind of person I want to cross."

He'd only really seen the Admiral once, during initiation, but she'd given off a very stern, no-nonsense impression. Her frown lines alone made it look like she hadn't smiled in years, if _ever_.

"Apparently, he's just good enough that she accepted him through gritted teeth." Adam said. "It helps that he basically only shows up when there's actually work for him."

"Huh," Shiro tilted his head, suddenly struck with curiosity, "-so what does he do the rest of the time?"

"Beats me." Adam shook his head. "Guy's an enigma. Even Commander Holt doesn't know where he lives. Just contacts him by phone."

"Do you know when he might be coming to the base next?" Shiro asked.

"No clue." Adam said, then paused, studying him. "Why do you ask?"

"I just thought it might be interesting to see him fly." Shiro said, somewhat unsure himself why he'd asked. "Know what I was up against."

Adam chuckled, ducking his head in a vain attempt to hide his laughter. "Already determined to make your mark, huh? Maybe worry about me first, Shirogane."

Shiro grinned at that. "Only if you give me something to worry about, Warner."

"Oh," Adam grinned right back, "-it's on now."

"Race you to the simulators?" Shiro asked.

"Only if you're ready to eat my dust." Adam taunted.

"Sorry," Shiro's grin grew, "-I'm on a strict dust free diet."

* * *

It wasn't until he first saw Keith that he realized that he had been the person he'd seen sitting outside of the guard tower- and that it _hadn't_ just been some kind of jetlag induced mirage.

All of the cadets had been gathered outside, a safe distance away from the testing site. They were testing a new propulsion system, one that was supposedly vital for ensuring the success of an upcoming deep space mission, the destination of which the Garrison had yet to reveal. The system was supposed to ensure even faster travel than before, but with all such things, they had to test it first.

If it worked, it would be a massive breakthrough- one that could change space travel as they knew it.

Someone had the foresight to bring along binoculars, which were being passed from cadet to cadet. He took them eagerly when it was his turn, but it wasn't the ship he was looking at, but rather, the person who was supposed to fly it.

He was wearing a standard Garrison issue pressure suit, but that ponytail of his was definitely anything _but _standard issue. It hung over one shoulder, the stark black color of his hair offsetting the white and gray of his pressure suit. His skin was pale, and he briefly reminded Shiro of a vampire- except for the part that he was out under the bright light of the sun, and that vampires weren't real.

He was also wasn't tall as he'd been expecting. He wasn't _short_\- more on the taller side of average, taller than him, at least. His build was lean, in a way that wouldn't have suggested muscle were he in anything other than a pressure suit.

Just then, he looked up, turning away from Commander Holt and towards the viewing platform. Shiro felt his heart stop, because it felt like he was looking directly at _him_. Jerking the binoculars away, he tried- and failed- to pass them nonchalantly over to the next cadet. Thankfully said cadet was Hunk Garrett, so he didn't make too much of a fuss about it.

Keith looked away again, turning back to the commander. He didn't look towards them again, just nodded along to everything Commander Holt said. After a few minutes, the commander gave him a pat on the shoulder, saluted, and was on his way- presumably to somewhere a bit safer than standing right next to a ship that was about to take off.

Keith watched him go, before pulling on his helmet, and boarding the plane. Shiro watched with great interest as he prepped for launch, still more interested in the ship's pilot, than he was in the ship itself. He'd never met a mercenary before- he wondered just how skilled he really was, to attract the attention of one of the Galaxy Garrison's foremost engineers.

He got his answer soon enough.

He still remembered the first time he realized he wanted to be a pilot- and the reason why he wanted to join the Garrison, above any other space program. Reading about the Calypso mission had lit a fire under him, and before he knew it, he was consuming everything he could find about it- and then later, the Galaxy Garrison as a whole. Right then and there, he knew that was what he wanted to do with his life, and that nothing else could possibly ever compare.

He felt that spark again now.

He watched as Keith's plane vanished out of sight, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Someday- someday he'd be able to do that too. He'd be able to fly ships he could never even dream of, go deeper into space than anyone else had, explore the unknown... the possibilities were endless, and suddenly the future felt so _bright_.

While space itself was still out of his reach, he was a cadet now. Which meant someday, that really _would _be him up there.

Someday couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

"The most important thing to keep in mind is- Kogane, what are you doing here?"

Shiro blinked, lifting his head. It wasn't like Lieutenant Griffin to pause mid-lecture. He also wasn't used to hearing him sound so annoyed. He understood a little better once he saw what- or rather, _who_\- the source of his annoyance was.

"Thought I would come watch." Keith said. "Got a problem, Griffin?"

A hushed murmur went through the crowd- all of the first year cadets were now five months into their training, which was more than enough time to become familiar with who Keith was. Still, for the most part they only ever saw him from a distance- he had only limited clearance around the base, and was usually in the company of at least someone from upper command, most commonly Commander Holt, but occasionally the job was passed to Iverson.

Today he was alone, leaning against the wall of the simulator room. His arms were crossed in front of him, and he was watching the proceedings with keen interest. He stuck out like a sore thumb, being the only person in the room not in some kind of uniform. His dark red aviator's jacket looked like it would be massively uncomfortable out in the desert heat, but he'd caught glimpses of him out there before, and it never seemed to bother him much. His combat boots were made out of the same type of leather, and his black jeans looked like the kind that had naturally worn themselves down, rather than the kind that were just _made _to look that way.

The chain of what looked to be dog tags were tucked underneath his black shirt. It wasn't hard to guess that they weren't Garrison issue, but probably belonged to whatever mercenary unit he'd used to work for before this.

His eyes, in this light, looked nearly purple.

"That's _Lieutenant _Griffin to you, Kogane." James said shortly. "Does Admiral Sanda know you're here?"

"Commander Holt does." Keith shrugged. "He's the one who gave me permission."

"Yeah?" James challenged. "Maybe I should go ask him."

Keith looked unperturbed, sticking his hands- clad in red, fingerless gloves- into his jacket. "Fine by me."

James glared at him for a second longer, before he heaved a frustrated sigh. Since he hadn't even flinched, he must have been telling the truth. "Fine. But just stay out of the way."

"Had no plans to get in the way." Keith said. "It's the big promotion test, right? Wouldn't want to blow someone's chances."

James frowned, clearly still unhappy about this, but apparently not willing to go up against Commander Holt. "Good. As long as you know."

"Carry on, cadets." Keith lifted a hand, giving them an obviously mock salute. He sensed that it was meant to irritate the lieutenant more than it was meant to mock them, though.

It certainly seemed to work, though. James grumbled, clenching his fists before he composed himself, drawing in a deep breath. Straightening his collar, the lieutenant looked back towards them, and then proceeded to continue as if he had never been interrupted. "As I was saying, the most important thing to keep in mind about this test is-"

Shiro's gaze lingered on Keith for a second longer, before he turned back towards the lieutenant. As curious as he was about the ex-mercenary, this _was _an important test for him. If he made a good score, he'd be promoted into the fighter class- anyone who didn't make good marks would be left behind as a cargo pilot. He wanted to avoid that at all costs, and though he had confidence in his own skills, there were only so many slots available, and there were an awful lot of talented pilots here.

He _had _to be sure he was one of the ones to get in.

He didn't notice that Keith had caught his earlier gaze, and was now looking in his direction. He just anxiously waited for his name to be called, trying to both calm himself down and hype himself up at the same time. He could do this- he had the talent, and he'd worked just as hard as anyone else to get here. His scholarship was proof of the blood, sweat, and tears he'd put into it all.

"Patience yields focus." He mumbled underneath his breath.

Adam, who was standing next to him, frowned, tilting his head. "What's that?"

Looking over towards him, Shiro gave him a small smile. "Some advice my grandfather gave me."

"What, you nervous, Shirogane?" Adam asked.

Shiro just snorted, the edges of his lips quirking upwards in a grin. "And you're not?"

"Okay, point taken." Adam admitted. "Doesn't help that my name's dead last on the list of people to go. I wish they were doing this by first name."

Shiro snorted, looking up towards James. He had just called for another cadet to come up- Lance McClain, who was normally one of the louder, more boastful kids in the class. He was dead quiet now, almost grim as he made his way into the simulator- testament to just how nerve racking this whole exam process was.

Everyone who was here wanted in the fighter class. _Everyone_. That was the kind of competition he was up against.

"Hey," Adam said, nudging him in the shoulder, "-you'll be fine. You're the best pilot here."

He opened his mouth to thank Adam, but he pressed on, not giving Shiro a chance to speak. "You know, aside from me. Think I'll be taking that number one spot."

Shiro felt his grin grow, and his nerves lessen as a competitive spark flared to life in his chest. "We'll just see about that."

* * *

"So you're number one, huh?"

Shiro yelped, pivoting on his heel to try and find who it was that had just spoken. He'd thought he was alone on the roof, but a quick glance upwards told him that wasn't true. Someone had gotten here before him. He just didn't expect it to be _Keith Kogane_.

"I," Shiro said slowly, trying to recover his broken composure, "-yeah. That's me."

Keith hummed, peering down at him from his perch atop the raised area where the entrance to the roof was located. He was drinking something out of a can, though he set it down next to him, next to a data pad that he had presumably been going over before he'd arrived. He briefly debated quickly excusing himself, not wanting to interrupt, but something compelled Shiro to stay.

Curiosity, maybe.

He'd never seen Keith this close before. Or spoken with him directly, for that matter. Ever since testing day, he'd been seeing him around more often, usually in the company of Commander Holt. They seemed to be discussing something, though nobody knew what. Rumor was that the commander wanted Keith to fly a mission of some kind, though the details about it were shaky.

"You're a scholarship kid, right?" Keith asked.

Shiro blinked, more than a little surprised Keith knew that about him- or knew anything about him at all, for that matter. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"Staff talks about you sometimes." Keith shrugged. "Don't worry. It's mostly good stuff."

Shiro arched a brow. "Mostly?"

"They do talk an awful lot about that mandatory food prep course you failed." Keith said.

Shiro flushed. He'd been trying to forget about that. Cooking had never exactly been his forte, and while the food prep course wasn't so much _cooking _per say, it was still close enough to it that his usual jinx had applied. He just considered himself lucky that they had put the fire out _before _it had spread to any of the other stations.

"Right." Shiro said. "That."

Keith picked his can up again, taking a long drink from it. Shiro bit his lip, wondering if he was going to say something else, but it didn't seem like it.

"You're Keith Kogane, right?" Shiro asked, deciding to take a chance.

Maybe he just should have taken his silence as a cue to get out of here. But ex-mercenary or not, Keith... didn't exactly seem dangerous. At least, he didn't give off that vibe. The knife that he wore sheathed at his back challenged that assumption, but he was pretty sure that the Garrison command wouldn't have allowed him to bring it on base if they thought he was actually going to stab someone with it.

"Last I checked." Keith said, in a tone that made it impossible for Shiro to discern if it was meant as a joke or not. "You've heard of me?"

"Everyone has." Shiro said, feeling a bit dumb.

"Mm," Keith frowned, "-guess it's too much to hope that it's all good things."

"They say you're a good pilot." Shiro hastily said. "The best, actually."

Keith snorted, hanging his head. "I don't know about the _best_, but I am pretty good. You're not so bad yourself. I saw your sim run during that test. You've got a lot of potential."

Shiro beamed at the unexpected praise. "I- thanks. That means a lot."

"Coming from me?" Keith asked, arching a brow.

"Well... yeah." Shiro said. "I've seen you fly before, back during that propulsion test."

Keith frowned, seeming to consider it, before he shrugged his shoulders. Reaching behind him, he picked up another can, giving it a small shake. "Want one?"

Shiro blinked, the sudden offer taking him by surprise. "I'm not old enough to drink."

Keith lightly snorted, throwing the can at him anyways. "It's not beer."

He had to scramble to catch it, and just barely avoided dropping it. Glancing down at the can, he realized Keith was right. It _wasn't_ beer, like he'd assumed it was- it was coffee. The sweet kind at that.

Huh. He hadn't expected that.

"Guess I will, then." Shiro said. "Thanks."

Keith grinned, the expression fainter on him than he was used to on other people. There was a hard set to his eyes that didn't quite go away, even when he smiled. He couldn't help but wonder exactly what kind of life he'd lived up until this point. It had clearly been a hard one, if the wary way he tracked every move he made was any indication.

"You could come up." Keith offered. "View's pretty great."

Shiro arched a brow, turning on his heel to look behind him. The view _was _good, but he couldn't help but wonder how much better it could possibly be from just a few extra feet. After a moment's thought, he shrugged- who knew? Maybe it was worth checking out.

Tucking the can into the pocket of his cadet uniform, he climbed up the ladder that lead to the small landing. Pulling himself up the rest of the way, he stood up, staring out across the desert. Looking out across the horizon, he suddenly understood what Keith had meant.

If the view from below had been good, then the view from up here was _breathtaking_.

"You wouldn't think it would make much of a difference, but it does." Keith said, as if he were reading his mind. "Weird, huh?"

"How did you even find this place?" Shiro asked, not pulling his eyes away just yet.

Keith shrugged again. "I just like high places."

Shiro frowned, taking a seat next to him. He cast a glance towards the data pad, but it had been turned off, so he had no way of knowing what was on it. "Is that why you became a pilot?"

"No," Keith said, pausing to take a sip of his coffee, "-I became a pilot because someone thought I had talent. Good reflexes."

"Oh." Shiro frowned, staring at his feet. It dawned on him that he knew next to nothing about Keith, other than rumor and hearsay. "I just thought-"

"I did want to be one though." Keith abruptly cut him off, possibly without even realizing it. "Back in middle school. Just never got the chance."

"What happened?" Shiro asked.

"It's a long story." Keith told him, a finality to his reply that suggested it wasn't a subject he wanted to talk about. "Probably not very interesting either. What about you? What made you want to be a pilot?"

Considering it, Shiro stared down at the can of coffee in his hands. "I read about the Calypso mission in school."

"That's the one where they went to the moons of Jupiter, right?" Keith asked. "They still have the shuttle they used for it tucked away somewhere on the base."

"Yeah, I've seen it." Shiro told him. "It was pretty impressive."

He decided not to mention how he'd been struck speechless at the sight of it. Being that close to something he'd only read about for so long had taken his breath away.

"That your goal?" Keith asked. "Deep space?"

"Yes." Shiro said, resolutely. "I'm getting there, no matter what."

Keith tilted his head, almost seeming to study him for a moment. His eyes looked more blue-gray than purple- he had to wonder if what he'd seen before had just been a trick of the light. He didn't think people could even _have _purple eyes.

"What about you?" Shiro asked. "You're a test pilot, right? For Commander Holt? That's a pretty dangerous job."

"Better than what I was doing before." Keith looked away from him as he said that, his eyes seeming to vanish behind his bangs. "It's honest work."

Sensing he'd touched on a sore subject, Shiro quickly decided to change it. "So... what are you doing up here?"

"Came to get away from the noise." Keith said. "They'll probably notice I'm missing after awhile, but it takes a lot longer than you'd think."

He didn't question who _they _was- odds were, it was probably Admiral Sanda and Commander Holt. He bit his lip, tempted to ask about the rumors, but decided against it. He didn't want to make it sound like he was just fishing for information, even if he _was _curious.

He didn't get the chance, anyways. Keith picked up the data pad and his can of coffee, balancing on the rim of the landing in a way that somehow reminded Shiro of a cat. He finished off the can, tilting his head back to catch the last drop, before he crushed it with one hand, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"I should probably get going." He said. "Nice talking to you, cadet."

"Nice talking to you, Mister-"

"Keith." Keith cut him off. "You can just call me Keith."

Shiro blinked. "Keith, then. You can call me Shiro."

Keith smiled a bit at that, before he leapt down from the landing, not even bothering to use the ladder. He made it look effortless. He looked back up at him, offering him another mock salute. "Maybe I'll see you around again, Shiro. Good luck with your confession."

Shiro made a strangled sound, his cheeks heating up even as Keith vanished back inside. He'd completely forgotten that the reason he had retreated up to the roof in the first place was to rehearse just that. Keith had _heard _that!?

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Shiro buried his face in them. Well- at least confessing to Adam couldn't possibly be more embarrassing than _this_.

God. What a first impression to make.


	2. libra, of second chances

I come to you with this humble second installment of this AU! Just like the last one covered Shiro's arrival at the Galaxy Garrison, this one covers Keith's arrival. I've got one other pre-Kerberos story that I want to touch on for this verse, and then I will probably take a short break from it. I do plan to eventually touch on champion!Keith, I just need to settle on my exact plans for him first- there's so many good ideas that I don't know exactly which one to choose! Alas. I'll figure it out eventually.

So, thanks for reading, and please enjoy!

* * *

**libra, of second chances**

* * *

"Hey, Kogane! Someone's here to see you!"

Keith glanced up, swallowing the last of his ration bar. Visitors around here were unusual, but they were even more unusual when they were for _him_. Someone wearing the drab gray uniform of a ranking Galaxy Garrison officer was even more so.

He knew that the Galaxy Garrison had a relief unit in the area, but it was tucked away in the safer areas, far from here. This had been an active combat zone until three days ago, when they had taken it over- and up until today, it had been vulnerable to air strikes. He couldn't imagine why one of them would have come all the way out here, much less to see someone like _him_. For a brief second, he worried he'd done something wrong in today's air strike, but somehow he didn't think that was the case.

The officer didn't seem cross with him. Out of breath, maybe, but not cross. He could be pretty oblivious sometimes, slow to pick up on social cues, but he'd at least learned to tell when people were annoyed with him- unless they were faking it, in which case, all bets were off.

"You're not an easy man to find." The officer- whose shoulder stripes identified him as a commander- observed. "Gilbert and I have been looking all over for you."

Gilbert, the mercenary who had brought him, just snorted. He was a good twenty years Keith's senior, and prided himself on knowing the habits of everyone in the unit, even the newcomers like him. "Nah, Kogane's easy to find. You just have to go to the highest possible point and pray that you can actually get up there. He's like a damn cat."

Keith huffed, but didn't say a word of protest. Downtime in the middle of a conflict was rare, but after today's air strike, his unit's involvement in it was pretty much over. Why not take the chance to take in what was left of the scenery? Odds were, he'd never come here again- or at least, he hoped not. It wasn't usually a good thing if he had to go back to a place twice.

"I'll admit, the climb would have been easier if I were ten years younger." The commander joked, before sticking out his hand. "I'm Commander Samuel Holt, with the Galaxy Garrison. You can just call me Sam."

Crumpling up the wrapper of his ration bar, Keith shoved it in his jacket pocket. He was a lot of things, but a litterer wasn't one of them. He had to have _some _standards.

"Keith Kogane." He introduced himself, taking the commander's- _Sam's_\- hand. "So... what exactly does someone from the Garrison want from me? I don't _think _I broke any rules of engagement."

"No, no, you're fine." Sam assured him. "I actually wanted to talk to you about a job."

Keith blinked, growing even more confused. "If you have a request for the unit-"

"No," Sam shook his head, "-more like I've got a request for you. How would you like a chance to work for the Galaxy Garrison?"

"Uh," Keith hesitated, wondering if he'd heard him right, only to quickly decided he had to have misheard him, "-sorry, can you repeat that?"

"He's offering you a job, Kogane!" Gilbert supplied. "Chance to get out of this dump. I say you take it."

A job. He'd heard that there were sometimes mercenaries who got offered work elsewhere, but most of the time when someone left, it was either because they had gotten poached by another unit, or because they were dead. Jobs were rare for people like them- especially good, honest jobs. Nobody wanted to take a chance on a mercenary.

Then again, maybe the Garrison just wanted him to do some dirty work.

"That's about the long and short of it." Sam agreed. "Your commanding officer tells me that you're the best pilot he has."

"Well," Keith quirked a faint grin, "-I wouldn't say the _best_, but-"

"Oh, don't be so modest!" Gilbert interjected. "You can out fly anyone in this unit. Probably in this whole bloody country. Definitely did a number on the enemy today."

Keith shot him a look. Gilbert merely raised his hands, arching his brows- but he did step back, giving them some space. He'd already earned himself a reputation for not being very social, making it worse didn't exactly bother him.

"I have to agree. I saw you out there today, during the air strike." Sam said. "That was some pretty sharp flying."

Keith just shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket. It wasn't much protection from the winter chill, but extreme temperatures had never really bothered him. Eying the Commander, he noted the way he shivered whenever the winds blew in his direction, in spite of his large, Garrison-issue coat.

"You want to head down?" Keith asked.

Sam chuckled, looking a bit grateful. "Little nippy out here."

Keith nodded, already wordlessly beginning to make his way down, picking out the quickest- if not necessarily the safest- path down. It was probably for the best anyways. In half an hour the sun would set, and it would become a lot harder for Gilbert and the Commander to see where they were going.

Low light never bothered him. His night vision was sharper than most, even if his color vision suffered a bit for it.

Glancing behind him, he watched as the pair opted to take a safer route down. It must have been an office building once- but by the time they'd arrived, it was nothing more than a ruin. Subsequent bombings hadn't helped, though today's air strike would have effectively rendered the enemy's flight capability as close to zero. He still found himself keeping a wary eye towards the skies, however- if there was one thing he'd learned, it was the desperation could drive people to do things they otherwise wouldn't.

Always have your guard up. He'd learned that the hard way- just not from his time as a mercenary.

It wasn't until they reached the first stable floor that Keith came to a stop. He had to wait a few minutes for Gilbert and Sam to catch up, using the time to mull over what kind of job the Commander might be offering him. They obviously needed a pilot- which was weird, because the Galaxy Garrison had no shortage of exceptional pilots- ones with _actual _training, not the few scant lessons he'd gotten before he'd been shoved in the pilot's seat.

He narrowed his eyes, thoughts drifting back to his last encounter with the Galaxy Garrison. They had come to his middle school for a recruitment rally- they'd even brought a simulator with them. For awhile, he thought he actually had a chance of getting in- his simulator scores had been better than anyone else's, but it wasn't long before reality came crashing back down.

It was stupid- he should have never gotten his hopes in the first place. The only way he was getting into the Garrison as a foster kid was if he got a scholarship, but they only had one slot available. His sim scores weren't enough to beat out James Griffin, who had come armed with their teacher's glowing recommendation, and his own history of violent outbursts and discipline issues hadn't helped. They had picked James in the end, who had gloated about it for the rest of the semester.

He probably _still _gloated about it even after he'd left that school. His foster family at the time had decided he was just too much trouble to look after, so he'd been shipped off again. He didn't think he'd ever have a shot at being a pilot again, not until a combination of dumb luck and good reflexes had caught someone's attention. But by then, the prospect had lost any dream-like qualities it might have once possessed.

So what did the Garrison want with him _now_?

Sam huffed, a little out of breath once he reached him. "Gilbert here was right. You are like a cat."

Keith merely arched a brow at the comment. It wasn't the first time the comparison had been made, and he doubted it would be the last time either. It had been a source of annoyance when he was a kid, but he'd since learned to live with it.

"So... you said you had a job for me?" Keith asked.

"I do," Sam told him, "-if you'll have it."

Keith frowned, crossing his arms in front of him. "I'm listening."

"While I'm here with the relief unit now, my main job is as an engineer." Sam explained. "I work out of the Galaxy Garrison's base in Texas."

Keith's brows shot up. The Texas Garrison base wasn't that far from where he had been raised, back when his father was still alive. It was also the Texas Garrison base that had passed him over for recruitment before. While he wasn't exactly one to believe in fate, he had to admit, this was a pretty big coincidence.

It was more than enough to catch his interest.

"Go on." Keith said.

"These past few years, we've been working on designing a new fleet of ships." Sam continued. "Recently, we've been working to make these new ships a reality. But in order to do that, they need to be tested first. That's where you would come in."

Keith tilted his head. "You want me to be a test pilot? Don't you guys have your own?"

"We do." Sam said. "And that was the plan, to ask one of them. But when I saw you today..."

He shook his head. "I don't know. I just have the feeling that you're exactly what we need."

_Need_. Keith's back stiffened at the word. The last time someone had told him they needed him, he'd ended up being recruited as a mercenary. It wasn't like he'd had much choice- after he'd aged out of the system at eighteen, he was left with nowhere else to go. Nobody wanted to deal with him, and he didn't have the grades for college, nevermind the money. He'd tried joining the military, since at least that would give him a roof over his head, but he hadn't even lasted a month. Something about not properly following orders.

Some bitter part of him wanted to turn Sam down, to reject his offer, like how the Garrison had rejected him all those years ago. But it wouldn't be the same, he knew- the Galaxy Garrison could move on without him, but that had been his one opportunity to make something of himself. He couldn't imagine just how radically different his life would be if he'd been able to get in.

He probably wouldn't have any blood on his hands, for one thing.

But maybe... maybe it _hadn't_ been his one opportunity. Maybe he was being offered a second chance. Those didn't come around too often- or ever.

Still... it almost sounded _too _good to be true. He couldn't help but be a little wary.

"Is it okay if I think about it?" Keith finally asked.

"Of course." Sam told him. "I'll be here with the relief unit until the end of the week."

"End of the week." Keith repeated. "Got it. I'll be sure to let you know my answer before then."

"Glad to hear it." Sam smiled at him. It felt surprisingly genuine, but he still didn't know if he trusted it. "I'll tell my people to keep an eye out for you."

Keith gave him a curt nod of his head. "Gilbert can take you back down."

"It was nice talking to you, Keith." Sam told him.

"Yeah." Keith said. "Nice."

Keith frowned, watching as Gilbert helped Sam navigate the partially collapsed staircase. Once they were out of sight, he lifted a hand, lightly pinching his cheek.

It wasn't a dream.

Keith turned his gaze skyward. His earlier estimation was off- the sky was already starting to be dyed in the colors of the setting sun. Clambering back up the way he came, he made it back to the top just in time to watch the sun disappear behind the horizon. He huffed, slightly annoyed that he'd missed it. That was the whole reason he had come up here.

Peering down over the edge, he picked out a pair of figures down below- Gilbert and Sam, who'd made it safely to the bottom. Narrowing his eyes, he fixed his gaze on Sam's small figure. He didn't know what to make of his offer. Being a test pilot was a risky business- maybe there was a reason he was asking him, and not someone who actually worked for the Garrison. He had no friends, no family- or at least, not any family that cared about him. The only person who would care if he died was already dead.

Then again, how was that any different than what he was doing now? At least if he became a test pilot, he'd be doing honest work, not fighting as a soldier in other people's wars. He _liked _fighting, but he didn't care for killing people, which was a lot of what he did.

He just also happened to be really good at it.

But he was _also _really good at flying. That was why he'd been poached from the last mercenary unit he'd worked for. He hadn't cared about the increase in his pay- he'd just been excited about the chance to fly a newer and faster plane than the old clunker his last unit had. There was also the added benefit of his new commander being a little less money-blind than his old one- he couldn't claim that he hadn't done any work that he'd found disagreeable since being taken on by this unit, but at least it happened a lot less often.

But now he had the chance to leave that all behind. He could start over, try to make a new life for himself. For once in his life, he had a second chance.

Watching the last rays of the sun vanish over the horizon, he came to a decision.

* * *

"I refuse to approve of this."

Keith's shoulders sagged, even as he fought not to let his disappointment show on his face. A week ago, he had accepted Sam's offer. This morning, he had flown back with him to the Texas base, thoughts of his new life running through his head.

He could fix up the shack like he had always planned on doing, but just never had the time to. He could live there, maybe fix up his dad's old hoverbike. He'd left it in a storage facility before he had left the States, the only real possession he had to his name other than a handful of clothes and an heirloom knife his deadbeat mother had left to him. Anything else that was important to him, he'd left in a lockbox at the shack.

But now it looked like none of that was going to happen.

When their plane landed, they had been greeted by a single woman. He could tell from her uniform alone that she was of high rank- an admiral. He could also tell that she looked immensely unhappy, a fact which she made no attempts to disguise.

"I know you have your reservations-"

"Reservations?" The admiral- who had very curtly introduced herself as _Ellen Sanda_\- cut Sam off. "We're _beyond _reservations, Sam. You're asking me to turn a mercenary with no formal flight training into a test pilot."

Keith shifted uncomfortably on his feet, tugging on the strap of his bag. He should have been used to people talking about him like he wasn't there, but he thought he was past that stage in his life. He hadn't had to deal with it since he'd left foster care.

"If you just give him a chance-" Sam began.

"No." Sanda said firmly. "I want him off my base immediately."

Keith bit down on his lip, staring at his boots. So much for second chances. He should have known better.

If he contacted his commander now, maybe he could get his old job back. If the admiral was in this much of a hurry to get him off her base, then maybe she'd be kind enough to have someone give him a ride to the nearest airport. He could probably still catch the next flight out to-

His grip tightened. No. _No_, he had come all this way. The last time he'd been given a chance to do something with his life, he hadn't fought for it. He'd just let it slip through his fingers, resigning himself to the fact that he just wasn't meant for great things. He wouldn't do that again. He wasn't going to leave without at least _trying _to convince her.

"Please," Keith said, "-just give me a chance."

Sanda snapped her mouth shut, glaring at him. Only now did he realize he'd just cut her off mid-sentence, the same thing he'd gotten in trouble for during his brief stint with the military. But instead of backing down, he met her glare head on.

She had nothing to lose. He did.

Eventually, the admiral heaved an exasperated sigh. "Fine. _One _chance. If he doesn't impress me, then he's out."

Keith was sure his face lit up, much as he tried to disguise it. "That's all I'm asking for."

Sanda merely frowned, before she lifted a hand, signaling to one of the technicians on standby. "See if you can find Mister Kogane here a plane. Preferably one _without _weapons."

Keith frowned, but didn't protest. He didn't expect the admiral to trust him. He didn't even _need _her to trust him. All he had to do was prove that he could handle the job.

"We'll have you run one of our test courses for our advanced cadets." Sanda informed him. "Commander Holt can brief you on the course. If you pass, I'll _consider _hiring you."

Keith didn't say anything, just nodded. Apparently that was enough to satisfy the admiral, because she turned sharply on her heel, her boots clacking against the pavement. Keith felt himself exhale once she was out of sight. He'd always had trouble with authority, but even more so with authority figures like Admiral Sanda.

"I'm sorry about all this." Sam apologized, offering him a weak smile. "Normally, we don't have a problem with integrating civilian pilots, but I guess Admiral Sanda feels otherwise."

"It's fine." Keith said. "I wouldn't exactly say that I'm a civilian."

"Fair enough." Sam admitted. "Let's find somewhere to put down your bag, and then we can review the course together. With your talent, I doubt it's anything to worry about."

Keith just nodded, letting Sam lead him further into the Garrison. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander, drinking in every detail. If he failed to impress the admiral, this might be his only chance to see what it was like in here. He knew the exterior well- he drove by it often enough on the rare occasions he had enough leave time to make his way back to the shack- but he'd never been inside.

"This is my office." Sam told him, unlocking a door with the swipe of a card. "You can set your things down inside, if you like."

Keith nodded again, following him inside. He set his bag down on an empty chair, taking in his surroundings. Sam's office was filled with various books, on everything from engineering to astrophysics. He'd talked a lot about the planes that he was working on building for the Garrison on the flight over, and while he hadn't understood most of it, he knew enough to know that Sam was clearly both extremely smart and extremely talented in his own right.

He really wanted to try and fly a plane he'd made.

"Take a seat." Sam told him, already sitting at his desk. "We can go over the course now, but if you're not feeling up to taking the actual test today, I'm sure even the admiral would be willing to reschedule. She's stubborn, but not entirely unreasonable."

"I'm fine." Keith told him. "Never had a problem with jetlag."

"Wish I could say the same." Sam observed. "You would think all the space travel would help."

Keith blinked. "You've been to space?"

"Several times." Sam told him. "My last mission took me as far as Saturn."

_Space_. Keith couldn't help but marvel at that. It had always fascinated him, even as a kid. His dad would always tell him stories about far distant planets. He remembered wanting to go see them for himself, too young to realize that his dad was just making it all up. But even once he did, his desire to reach the stars hadn't faded.

It had crashed and burned when he reached middle school, when he realized it would never happen. That he was destined to be just as earth-bound as everyone else. And while he eventually had gotten his chance to fly, space remained nothing more than a distant dream.

It probably still would be, even if he got the job. But he'd be a lot closer to it than before.

"So," Keith began, trying to change the subject before it looked like he was interested, "-what's this course I'm supposed to fly like?"

Sam smiled, reaching into his desk and pulling out a roll of paper, unrolling it on his desk. As he explained the course, Keith listened as best he could, trying to bury any thoughts of the impossible. He had learned a long time ago that nothing good came from dreams. His simple childhood dream of being a pilot had lead him to terrible places, so right now all he was looking for was something would let him put that all behind him.

Space was out of the question.

* * *

He'd passed the course with flying colors, and Admiral Sanda had been forced to begrudgingly accept that he had talent. With it came extremely limited clearance to the base- he was to be accompanied at all times by someone from upper command, and even then the areas he could enter were considerably restricted. The only times he would even be welcome on base were when there was work for him, but he'd still get paid a regular salary at least- plus hazard pay, which was more than he could say about his last job.

Keith didn't mind. He was glad to just _have _the job.

Sanda had looked relieved when he said that he didn't need any housing. He got the feeling she didn't want him on her base for any longer than was absolutely needed. She'd been more than happy to have someone give him a ride to town, where he had rented a hoverbike and then begun the process to get his dad's old hoverbike shipped to him. He bought a few necessities, and then headed out into the desert.

The shack was exactly as he'd left it, just dustier. He spent roughly an hour washing away as much dust as he could manage, before he gave up. Any surfaces he might eat off were clean, and that was the most important part.

Flopping down on the couch, he didn't even bother kicking off his boots. He might be immune to jetlag, but he wasn't immune to exhaustion- and it had been a long day. He knew he should try and dig out his camp stove and cook something, but he didn't have the energy to. He'd eaten in town anyways, so it wasn't like he was starving or anything.

Closing his eyes, Keith dozed, but didn't quite fall asleep. He was still turning over the day's events in his head. Cracking an eye open, he reached towards his bag, opening one of the front flaps and pulling out the ID card that Sanda had reluctantly had printed for him. He was scowling in the photo, but it didn't matter.

He'd gotten his second chance. Now he just had to make sure he didn't waste it.

Easier said than done.

Huffing slightly, Keith placed the ID card down on the makeshift coffee table. Rolling over on his side, he closed his eyes again. He didn't know if he deserved it, but since it had been given to him, he'd take it.

As he drifted off to sleep, it felt like there was a nagging detail he was forgetting. Ah well. Probably wasn't important.

* * *

"When I heard Commander Holt had hired a new test pilot, I didn't think it would be you."

Ah. That was it.

Ordinarily, he would have long forgotten James Griffin's name and face. But his role in diverting his life's path had prevented him from ever truly doing so. He hadn't changed much since the last time they'd met- taller, obviously, more grown up. He was wearing the drab gray uniform of a Garrison officer, his stripes indicating his rank as that of a lieutenant.

Keith huffed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. His dark red aviator jacket stood out amongst all the gray, but it wasn't like anyone had given him a uniform or anything. He was technically employed by the Garrison, but he wasn't a part of it. Sam had shown him where they stored their pressure suits, and they'd had him fitted for one, but it wasn't like he actually owned it, or would be wearing it the entire time he was on base. Just when he had to fly.

They hadn't issued him any dog tags either, but that was fine. He still had his tags from the first mercenary unit he'd joined, back when he'd just been a desperate, angry eighteen year old kid looking for a way to survive. He'd had newer ones printed since then, but he never wore them.

They were a reminder of the choice he'd made. Some people might pity him, say he'd been exploited and lied to. But he'd known what he was getting into. He was just desperate enough not to care.

"Griffin." Keith said curtly. "Been a long time."

"Not since middle school." James observed, arching a brow. "Thought I'd never have to see your face again."

"Hoped I'd never to have to see yours again either." Keith countered. "So what, you're a lieutenant now?"

James beamed with pride, the same gloating kind he knew from the past, only tempered a bit with age. "That's right. First in my class."

"That so?" Keith asked, stifling a yawn. "Nice. Who'd you butter up to get that rank?"

James shot him a glare. "No one. I got here through my own hard work, unlike _some _people."

It took Keith a second to realize that by _some people_ he meant _him_. Blinking, he tilted his head, staring at James in confusion. "What are you even talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Kogane. I don't know how you convinced Commander Holt to let you in," James said, "-but whatever you did, it's not going to keep you here for long. This isn't a place where you can just goof around."

Keith's brow twitched, something in him snapping. Commander Holt was the one who had invited him, not the other way around. He didn't appreciate the insinuation that he'd somehow bribed his way into the Garrison- like he even had the money for that. "I didn't come here to _goof around_. I came here to _work_."

"I heard the admiral doesn't even want you here." James stated.

"She didn't." Keith admitted with a shrug, trying to reel back in his temper. He wasn't in middle school anymore. Getting into a fight with James would just cost him his job, and he wasn't willing to risk that. "But she admits that I have talent."

James snapped his mouth shut, glowering at him. Guess he'd grown up a little too, because he also took a step back, trying to reel in his temper. "Heard you became a mercenary."

Keith twitched in spite of himself. He didn't know how James did it, but he somehow always managed to pick up on his sore spots.

"_Ex_-mercenary now." Keith told him, ignoring how recent that _ex _was. "I'm putting that behind me."

James snorted. "Yeah, well, let's just see how long that lasts."

"It will." Keith stated firmly. "So you'd better get used to seeing my face, Griffin."

"Then you'd better get used to seeing mine, Kogane." James shot back. "Because as soon as those planes that you're testing roll out of production, _I'm_ going to be the one flying them."

Keith opened his mouth to retort when the door to Sam's office opened. The commander blinked, glancing between the two of him, before his gaze settled on James. "Lieutenant Griffin. Did you need something?"

"Commander." James said stiffly. "Just came by to see if you knew where the extra flight manuals are for the XY-7s. I don't have enough for my class."

"Lieutenant Leifsdottir came by earlier. She probably still has them." Sam told him.

"Copy that. I'll go track her down." James gave Sam a curt nod, before turning his head slightly to shoot him a glare. "See you around base, Kogane."

"Wouldn't miss it." Keith said, his tone as dry as the desert just outside.

Sam watched as James turned and left, before looking back towards him. "Someone you know?"

"You could say that." Keith said curtly. "We used to go to the same middle school."

"Huh," Sam said, arching his brows, "-well how about that? Life can be awfully funny that way sometimes."

_He _didn't find it funny, but he just kept his mouth shut. As much as he hated to admit it, James had a point. His position here was tenuous at best- and probably depended solely on him staying in Commander Holt's good graces. He didn't want to ruin his chances by making a smart remark where it wasn't wanted or needed.

He could manage that. Probably.

"Anyways," Sam continued, thankfully changing the subject, "-how about I take you down to see the planes you'll be testing? Not all of them are ready yet, but there are a few that are fairly close to the testing phase. We just have to finish the last of the safety checks."

Keith gave him a curt nod, falling into step behind the commander. He was eager to find out what it was that he would be flying. Whatever it was, it was bound to be amazing- not to mention _fast_. Nothing he had ever flown back when he was a mercenary was ever fast enough to satisfy the itch, so he was almost brimming with anticipation now.

Maybe it would be people like James who would end up flying them regularly- but he'd get to fly them _first_.

Sam lead him into a wide elevator, but instead of pressing any buttons, he just swiped his card against a scanner. The elevator jerked, then began to move, going down past the marked basement floors. It wasn't until they were past the last of them that he realized that there was actually a window in the elevator- one that revealed a massive underground hangar, hidden from the public eye.

It was filled with all kinds of planes and even a few spaceships, all in varying stages of development. He wasn't too proud to admit that his jaw dropped as he gazed out across the length of the hangar, wondering if he'd be testing _all _of them.

God, he hoped so.

"We've got two fighters that are just about ready for testing." Sam informed him. "So you should get your first call to come in sometime next week, once all the preliminary safety check are done."

"I could fly them for you right now, if you wanted." Keith offered.

Sam gave him a faint smile. "Glad to see you're eager, but we have the safety checks for a reason. Wouldn't want to have missed something important."

Keith just shrugged. "Thought that was why you had test pilots."

"True." Sam said. "But you'd probably like to be sure that the plane won't explode as soon as you turn on the ignition."

"That's a... fair point." Keith admitted. "Has that ever happened before?"

"Just once." Sam told him. "An issue with the wiring. We've made sure to not let it happen again."

Keith just nodded. "Safety checks sound good."

Sam chuckled, just as the elevator doors opened. "That they do. Come on, I'll show you around."

Trailing after the commander, Keith could barely focus on anything he was saying. He was too focused on all the work going on around them, people bustling to and fro. The hangar was massive, but somehow it didn't seem quite big enough for all the numerous projects that were going on inside of it.

In the center of it all was what looked to be the frame of a massive shuttle. It was clearly still in the early development stages, but whatever it was, he sensed it was important.

"So... what's all this for?" Keith finally asked.

"Glad you asked." Sam looked back at him, a broad smile on his face. "The Galaxy Garrison is currently finalizing plans to begin a new deep space expedition. But in order to do that, there's a lot of components that we have to test first."

Keith blinked. "Deep space?"

"You keep this between the two of us," Sam put a finger to his lips, "-but we're on the cusp of making history. The mission won't be formally announced for another year or so, but we'll be heading where no human has ever gone before- all the way out to Kerberos."

Kerberos. Keith's eyes went wide. That was all the way on the edge of the solar system. No one had ever been out that far before. Sam wasn't kidding when he said it would be history making- it would make the Calypso mission look like small potatoes.

He felt a tremble of excitement run through him, but quickly fought it back. It wasn't like _he'd_ be picked to fly it. He'd never even been into space before.

God, they'd probably pick _Griffin_. He didn't know if he could stomach that.

"How long would something like that even take?" Keith asked.

"Well, if my new propulsion system works, probably around five months or so." Sam told him. "Then another five months to return to Earth. We're already testing the environment that the astronauts will live in separately. My wife's actually assisting with the development of the agricultural component."

"Your wife?" Keith asked. He'd seen the picture on Sam's desk, so he knew he was married, but he hadn't known that she worked for the Garrison. "She works for the Garrison too?"

"That she does." Sam nodded. "My son's a first year cadet here, too. Katie's a little too young to enroll, but I'm pretty sure she's got her sights on the cadet program too."

"Is he a pilot?" Keith automatically asked.

"Engineer, actually." Sam smiled. "Taking after his old man. Maybe you'll see him around sometime, since he likes to swing by to lend a hand. His name's Matt."

"I don't know if Admiral Sanda will want me anywhere near the cadets." Keith said.

"I wouldn't worry too much about the admiral thinks." Sam told him. "She'll see sense. Eventually."

Keith frowned. Somehow, he kind of doubted it. She didn't exactly seem like the type who changed her mind that often. Then again, reading people wasn't exactly one of his talents- at least, not outside of combat. There he could read people like an open book, which while useful, he couldn't help but wish the skill would carry over to his civilian life. But he guessed that was a little too much to ask for.

"So," Sam began, "-how about it? Think you made the right choice?"

Gazing out across the wide hangar, Keith felt the edge of his lips twitch into a smile. Maybe he still had his concerns, but they did nothing to dwindle the excitement he felt.

"Yeah," Keith said, "-I think so."

"Glad to hear it." Sam said, and then to his surprise, gave him a pat on the back. "Come on. The safety checks might not be done yet, but I think we can still give you a chance to familiarize yourself with the cockpit. Unless you'd rather wait...?"

Keith grinned. "No sir."

He was a lot of things- but patient wasn't one of them.


	3. scorpio, of the desert sun

I know I just updated this series the other day, but I wanted to get all three of my initial pre-Kerberos ideas out before I let it lie dormant for awhile! So here we are, three of three for this age/partial roleswap AU. In this chapter, I'm mean to Shiro! So you know... business as usual. I wanted to finish this up yesterday, but they've been doing road resurfacing near me recently and while the road in front of my house desperately needed it, it's also very noisy and super distracting. Nothing like your whole house vibrating to make you lose focus lol. But I got it done today, so that's that!

Until next time! When I update next, whenever that will be, it should be with some champion!Keith!

* * *

**scorpio, of the desert sun**

* * *

It started simply as a sharp pain in his right arm. At first Shiro thought it was just the result of having slept on it wrong, but when it didn't go away, he wondered if he'd maybe pulled something during flight training. It had been ramping up ever since he'd been put into the fighter class, so maybe it was just a bad case of sore muscles.

That thought lasted until he woke up one morning, and found that he couldn't move his right arm at all. It didn't last long- barely even a minute- but it was enough to put Shiro into full blown panic mode. Adam had helped calm him down, staying with him until they made it to the nurse's office, where Shiro insisted he would be fine by himself. That Adam shouldn't have to miss class for him.

When the nurse told him with a fake smile that he was probably fine, but that she wanted to do a few more tests 'just in case', he wished he'd told him to stay.

It took him nearly half a day to return to class. He was already exhausted by the time he did, feeling as if he had run a marathon. Part of him just wanted to go back to his room and sleep for the rest of the day, but the rest of him just wanted to try and at least _pretend _that things were normal- even if he sensed they weren't.

The nurse's tests had proved inconclusive, or at least, that's what she told him. Shiro had the feeling that she had found _something _concerning in them, but just wasn't telling him- at least, not yet. She'd promised to contact him later, when she had more definite results, but had otherwise told him that he should just stick to his normal schedule.

Ducking into class, he passed the slip that the nurse had given him to the teacher. He'd taken one look at it, and then told him to take a seat, before continuing on with his lecture. He could hear some faint mumbling from his fellow cadets- no surprise, since he hadn't missed a day of class since coming to the Garrison.

He took his seat next to Adam, who gave him a faint smile. He'd never been more grateful to have all the same classes as him- he still hadn't been that successful in making friends. He was sort of on good terms with an engineering cadet by the name of Hunk Garrett, but the fact that _his _best friend, a cargo pilot by the name of Lance McClain had pegged him as his rival made actually becoming friends a bit difficult. He would much rather be friends with Lance too, but apparently this was one of those situations where he didn't have any actual say in the matter.

"How did it go?" Adam whispered, leaning over a bit.

Shiro shook his head. "She did a lot of tests, but she doesn't know what's wrong."

Adam's brow furrowed, concern visible on his features. "That doesn't sound good."

"She tried to act like it wasn't something to worry about," Shiro frowned, staring down at his right arm, "-but what if it is?"

"Hey," Adam said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder, "-it'll be okay. Whatever this is, you'll have me."

Shiro looked up at him, a grateful smile on his face. He'd confessed to Adam months ago, and his embarrassing encounter with Keith not withstanding, it had gone great. They hadn't exactly been on a lot of dates, both too busy with coursework to have much in the way of free time, but it was nice just _having _a boyfriend. That definitely hadn't been among the things he'd thought he'd find for himself at the Galaxy Garrison.

"Thanks." Shiro told him. "I think we'd better start paying attention though. Professor Montgomery is starting to give us the stink eye."

Adam flinched, his eyes darting up towards the front of the room, where the professor was indeed doing exactly that. Glancing back towards him with a sheepish smile, he made a quick hand motion that indicated that they would talk more about it later.

Shiro nodded, though he wasn't even sure if he _wanted _to talk about it later- or at all. Part of him just wanted to put it all behind him. Maybe if he pretended it didn't happen, it would stop being something he needed to worry about. Maybe it was just a one time thing, and wouldn't happen again. Maybe he was just letting himself get worked up for nothing.

And even if it _was _something... maybe it wasn't actually anything serious. Maybe all he would need was a quick, non-invasive procedure, one that he wouldn't even have to leave campus to get, and be out within the day. Maybe the nurse just wanted to be absolutely certain of whatever she thought, and that's what all the tests had been about.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd actually start to believe it.

Maybe.

* * *

Maybe not.

Shiro sat perfectly still, keenly aware of every breath he took. The nurse _had _run more tests. And those tests, unlike the ones from before, had come back with results.

Very bad results.

Now he was in the presence of the Galaxy Garrison's official doctor, but he wasn't alone. They had also summoned a specialist, and it was then that Shiro knew he was really in trouble. The Garrison was almost like it's own small country- they wouldn't call for outside assistance unless they absolutely needed it.

Adam was with him this time, and at first, he'd been grateful to have his support. But now, as the specialist detailed the exact nature of his condition, he almost wished he wasn't. He didn't want Adam to know just how messed up his body was- or how messed up it was going to become. Because according to the specialist, the stabbing pains and temporary paralysis of his right arm were just the beginning. It was only going to get worse from here- _a lot_ worse.

There was, he said, no cure.

Shiro had tuned him out after that. Some small part of him realized that he was in shock, but the rest just... didn't think about anything. The specialist's words came out as a static buzz, and even Adam's tight grip on his hand, once meant to be reassuring and supportive, didn't register with him.

He wouldn't make it to thirty-five.

His sixteenth birthday had been a month ago. Thirty-five had seemed so far away then, the age of an old man. Now it was both too close and too young.

"No."

He barely even registered that he'd spoken, much less that anyone else had heard him. In truth, the room had come to a dead stop at his utterance, even though it was no more than a single word. The specialist had finished speaking, and even Adam's fearful death grip on his hand had grown more lax in surprise.

"No, I don't accept this."

"Shi-"

Shiro bolted.

He didn't even know where he was going, he just ran. Anywhere was better than here. _Here _was nothing but death and doom- here had no future.

_He _had no future.

The Garrison had contacted his parents. They were on their way right now. Probably to withdraw him from school and put an end to his dream for good. It wasn't like he could even _be _a pilot anymore. Who would let someone with a degenerative disease behind the controls of a plane?

No one, that's who.

He didn't realize he'd gone outside until he felt the bright sun beating down on his face. The sudden shock of leaving the air conditioned confines of the Garrison so quickly snapped him out of the larger shock his diagnosis had put him in. The heat crept into his bones, and with it came a wild, crazy urge.

Away. He had to get away.

Away from here. Away from the Garrison, away from his diagnosis, away from somewhere he had no future. As if by just going away, he could outrun fate.

He couldn't, and some part of him knew it, but the rest of him seized at the idea. He knew where the Garrison kept their hoverbikes, and he knew how to fly one. He also knew the lock box where they kept the ignition keys was never actually _locked_, and that the front gate was always open at this hour.

It was perhaps the single stupidest idea he'd ever had in his life, but he did it. He stole the keys, took the hoverbike, and before he knew it was zooming out across the desert sands. There was exhilaration in it, weighed down only by the fearful knowledge that this might be the last time he would ever be allowed to fly _anything_.

He was sure someone would come after him eventually. Maybe Adam, or maybe Lieutenant Griffin. Maybe even Commander Iverson. He didn't think the admiral would trouble herself with a runaway cadet, one that they would probably end up removing from their pilot track anyways.

But he didn't think about that. Tried not to think about anything.

Which, in hindsight, was what lead to his downfall. If he'd been thinking, he would have remembered that he needed to throttle back once he reached this particular curve. But he didn't, so instead of throttling back, he hit the accelerator- and almost predictably took the curve way too hard and way too fast, leaving him no time to avoid the rock mass that sprung up just a short distance away from it. He ended up clipping it, and as a result, found himself violently thrown from the hoverbike.

Groaning, Shiro rolled over on his back. The bright sun assaulted his eyes, and he slammed them shut in a futile attempt to block it out. Now his whole body hurt, not just his right arm. His left leg was especially painful, and for a fearful moment, Shiro wondered if his disease had somehow spread to it that quickly, before realizing that it was probably just broken.

He then realized that actually wasn't any better. It was actually _worse_.

Pushing himself up, Shiro winced. He couldn't have broken it too badly, since nothing looked out of place, but a quick check with his hands definitely confirmed that it was probably more than just a sprain. Looking in the direction of the crashed hoverbike, he winced. It had taken way more damage than he had, and probably wasn't going anywhere soon- if ever.

Which meant he was stuck out in the middle of the desert with no way to get back, no water, and no way to even contact anyone. Great.

Heaving a sigh, Shiro dragged himself into the shadow of the large rock, where the sun was slightly less intense. Suddenly, the fact that someone would come to look for him eventually became reassuring, but at the same time he realized it might take them awhile to discover where he had gone. He hoped that the tracking chip in the hoverbike was still functional, and that it hadn't been damaged in the crash, but he had no way of checking.

He huffed slightly. At least this made him worry a little less about his diagnosis. It seemed stupid to be concerned about the future when he wasn't even sure if he'd get through _today_.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there. Long enough to know that it had been a lot longer than he should, but he had no way of tracking time. He knew there was some way to do it with shadows, but he'd never learned how. Maybe he should.

You know, _if _he survived this.

He was sure more than an hour had passed by the time his throat started to feel parched. Even under the shadow of the large rock, it was still almost unbearably hot. He debated if he should remove the jacket of his cadet uniform or not, unable to recall if it was worse to heat up too much or to get too much sun. The answer seemed like it should be obvious, but at the moment, it was eluding him.

By the time another hoverbike pulled up to take in the wreckage, he was almost too out of it to notice. If their voice hadn't sounded familiar enough to stir something in him, he might not have. Opening up his mouth, Shiro attempted to wet his lips, trying to produce some kind of sound- any kind of sound- so that they might notice him, but all he managed to produce was a dry croak.

Thankfully, his would-be rescuer had good ears.

The last things Shiro saw before he passed out were an unseasonably warm aviator jacket, and a pair of odd purple eyes.

* * *

Shiro groaned, his eyes slowly flickering open. He quickly became aware of two things- the cool, damp rag pressed against his forehead, and the absence of the blazing sun beating down on him. His thoughts came back to him in a slow trickle- his diagnosis, running away and crashing his hoverbike, and then...

Turning his head, Shiro tried to catch a peek at his rescuer. It didn't look like he was at the Garrison- it looked more like he was in some type of cabin. Though _cabin _might be too generous of a word for it- _shack _would probably be better, he thought, as he got a clearer look at it. It definitely looked lived in, like whoever occupied it didn't care too much about keeping things tidy. Even the couch he had been placed on was a bit lumpy and hard in places, but it was cool and out of the sun, so he wasn't exactly complaining.

"You awake?"

He blinked. He knew that voice, but he was a little too out of it to recall just who it was. Craning his neck, he tried to get a better look, just able to make out a mop of black hair, tied back into a ponytail with a rubber band, and a knife in a battered sheath.

"Keith?" Shiro frowned.

Turning his head, Keith peered back at him. "So you remember me."

"Kind of hard to forget." Shiro said. "Where...?"

"Home sweet home." Keith told him. "Or what passes for it anyways. Found you out in the desert. Took the curve too hard, huh?"

Shiro nodded, feeling a little dumb. He was glad to be rescued, but he hadn't expected it to be by a complete third party to the situation. He also couldn't help but feel a bit flustered that his mistake had been _that _obvious- just more evidence that he still had a lot to learn.

And no chance to do it.

Shiro bit his lip, staring down at his right arm. Now that he wasn't in imminent danger, his worries about the future came back in full force.

"Your arm's fine," Keith told him, squatting next to him, "-it's the leg that's broken. I set it for now, but you're probably going to want to see an actual doctor."

Shiro tensed, dropping his right arm by his side. Right. Keith didn't know about his diagnosis. Why would he? Other than that time on the roof, they didn't talk. He'd seen him around the Garrison multiple times since then, but they remained somewhat distant. It wasn't like he had any reason to call out to him.

"Think you can sit up?" Keith asked.

Shiro nodded. It took him a bit of struggle, but he did manage to sit up. Doing so gave him a better view of the shack- and the more he saw, the more he wondered just how Keith managed to live here. He had said it was his home, right?

"I know what you're thinking," Keith said, cracking open a water bottle and pouring some of its contents into a paper cup, "-but it's not so bad once you get used to it. Sometimes there's even the occasional rattlesnake come to keep you company."

Shiro flinched, eyes scanning the shack as if he expected to see a rattlesnake right then and there. Keith chuckled, handing him the paper cup.

"Drink it slow." He instructed. "Measured sips. You need to rehydrate."

Shiro nodded, doing exactly as he was told. He knew that much anyways, even if his body did crave to snatch the entire bottle of water from Keith's hands and chug it down. Once he was done, he felt slightly better, the stinging pain in his head slightly reduced.

"I called Sam," Keith began, before correcting himself, "-Commander Holt. He's coming to take you back to base. I'd take you myself, but it was enough of a challenge getting you here on the hoverbike. Would have just taken you back to the Garrison, but I thought it was better to get you cooled down and out of danger first. My place was closer."

Shiro just nodded, staring down at the bottom of the cup. Honestly, he didn't want to go back to the Garrison. Going back to the Garrison meant facing the consequences- both of running away, and of his disease.

Keith took in his expression, tightly frowning. Setting the water bottle on what looked to be a makeshift table stacked up on some cinder blocks, he made a faint huffing sound.

"Look," Keith began, "-I'm not exactly that great at reading people, but you seem... is something wrong?"

Shiro bit his lip, before slowly nodding. _Something wrong_ didn't feel like it even began to cover it. His whole life felt like it was coming apart, and there was nothing he could even do about it. The Garrison, Adam... all of it was going to go away.

Keith's frown deepened. "Do you want to talk about it? I don't know if I'll be much help but-"

"I might have to leave the Garrison." Shiro abruptly said, surprising even himself.

Keith blinked, staring at him in surprise. "Leave? You're the best cadet they have. Why would they make you leave?"

Shiro just gripped the paper cup a little harder. It crumpled in his hands, no longer suited for its intended purpose. By the time he reached Keith's age, he'd probably be no different from it- damaged and no good to anyone, much less himself.

"It's okay." Keith said after a minute. "You don't have to tell me. But if there's something I can do to help..."

Shiro blinked, looking up at him with a slight frown. "You barely even know me. Why would you want to help?"

Keith rubbed the back of his neck, staring hard at the floor like he was considering it himself. "I mean... I wouldn't have this position if Sam hadn't stuck his neck out for me, and he didn't know me either. No one had ever done that for me before. It was- it was nice."

"So I just thought... I don't know." Keith said. "That maybe I should try and do it for other people. And you seem like you could use the help."

Shiro's shoulders slumped, releasing his grip on the cup. It dropped into his lap, Keith awkwardly peering up at him before carefully removing it.

"I'm sick." Shiro told him. "I only just found out about it today, and it's just..."

"...it's just going to get worse. And there's no cure." Shiro blurted out. Now that he was talking about it, he found that he couldn't _stop _talking about it, all of his thoughts and anxieties bubbling to the surface. "They brought in a specialist because apparently it's _rare _or something, and he said... he said I might not make it to thirty-five. That I'll die."

Keith's nose crinkled. "Who tells a fifteen year old they're going to die?"

"Sixteen." Shiro weakly supplied.

"Still," Keith said, "-that's not right."

Shiro wanted to protest that it was better he know, but couldn't bring himself to. He wished he _didn't_ know- that he could have remained ignorant for a few more years, at least. Long enough to graduate from the Garrison. To spend more time with Adam. To at least do _something _with his life.

"So... you think the Garrison will kick you out just because you're sick?" Keith asked, after what felt like an eternity's worth of heavy silence.

"The disease effects my muscles." Shiro told him. "Who wants a sick pilot?"

"What about treatments?" Keith asked.

Shiro opened his mouth to respond, before realizing he didn't know the answer to that. He'd tuned out almost right after the specialist had told him that there was no cure, so he hadn't really heard if there were any available treatments or not. He didn't know why the possibility hadn't occurred to him sooner- for some reason, he'd just thought that no cure meant that there was nothing at all that could be done about it, period.

Sure, a treatment wasn't a _cure_, but it was better than nothing. Maybe it would even be able to keep him in the Garrison long enough to graduate.

"I don't know." Shiro admitted. "I kind of stopped listening."

Keith huffed. "Can't say I blame you, after you were told you were going to _die_."

In spite of himself, Shiro cracked a smile. Just talking about it made him feel a little better, and the thought that there might be treatments available gave him a little hope. "I guess I should thank you for saving me."

Keith just shrugged. "I just did what anyone would do. Feels a lot better helping _save _a life than-"

He cut himself off, ducking his head. "Sorry. Nevermind."

Keith got up then, setting down the paper cup on the makeshift table. Shiro glanced over towards it, surprised to find that it was more or less back in its original shape, even if all the wrinkles hadn't exactly buffed out. It even looked like it could hold water again.

Keith caught him looking at it and shrugged. "Can't waste a perfectly good cup. Should probably buy some real ones at some point, but eh."

Shiro bit his lip, staring at the cup. It stuck with him, though he wasn't sure why. "Do you think... do you think if there are treatments, they'll let me stay the Garrison?"

"I think if they kick you out, they'd have to be complete idiots." Keith said.

"I probably won't have much of a career even if I do stay." Shiro said. "It's supposed to be degenerative. Eventually I'll lose control of my limbs."

"So make the time you _do _have count." Keith told him, folding his arms in front of his chest. "Do something great. _Make them_ remember you."

Shiro frowned, his brows drawing together. "Do you really think I can?"

Keith hummed, glancing out the window. If he strained his ears, he could make out the sound of a car pulling up. "Do _you _think you can?"

Narrowing his eyes, Shiro thought about it. _Could _he? Right now the pain was manageable, and maybe with treatment, it would be even more so. But he still wasn't sure how much time he actually had before his condition started to take a nosedive- once that happened, he wasn't sure there would be enough treatments in the world to stop it.

But maybe... maybe just because there wasn't a cure _now_, didn't mean there would never be. Maybe between now and thirty-five, someone would come up with a way to save him. Or maybe they wouldn't. He had no way of knowing what the future held.

But that was... that was it, wasn't it? He _didn't_ know. Maybe he'd die at thirty-five, just like the specialist said. Maybe he wouldn't. He had no way of knowing either way. And if he had no way of knowing, should he really spend the entirety of the present worrying about something he couldn't control? What kind of life was that?

Not one he wanted, he decided.

He'd fight, Shiro decided. He had fought to get into the Garrison, and he'd fought to get his rank as the number one cadet in the pilot track. He'd fight this too.

"Yeah," Shiro finally said, with more confidence than he expected, "-I think I can."

"Good." Keith grinned. "Your ride's here. Drink a little more water before you leave."

Shiro nodded, pouring a bit more water into the paper cup. It didn't even leak.

* * *

In the end, he didn't get pulled from the Garrison.

His parents had wanted to at first- something about taking him to get treatment at home. But Shiro had fought furiously against it, and eventually, they had caved- though not before lecturing him about being reckless enough to steal government property and then wreck it, putting his life at risk. If Keith hadn't found him when he had...

His broken leg had him laid up for a few weeks, during which time he and his parents discussed his options with the specialist. Turned out there _was _a treatment available, in the form of an electro-stimulator that he could wear on his wrist. He didn't quite grasp _all _of the technical details of how it worked- biology wasn't exactly his strongest subject, but he understood enough to know that it would help with both the pain and the paralysis- the latter of which would likely be fairly rare this early on in the disease's progression.

It was a good thing, the specialist said, that it had been caught this early. Since he'd tuned him out before he'd finished speaking the first time, he'd missed the part where he'd explained that early detection and treatment could extend one's life expectancy from anywhere between five to ten years. And while that still meant that at absolute worst, he wouldn't make it past forty, it still sounded a lot less scary than thirty-five.

It _was _still scary, though. But his parents were with him to help him through it- and so was Adam. And when his parents had to return home, Adam was still there. He'd half expected them to maybe break up and just stay friends or something, but that didn't happen.

"Are you sure about this?" Shiro had asked once. "You heard the doctor."

"We've been over this, Shiro." Adam said. "I'm sure. I like you- and I want to stay with you for awhile longer, if you'll have me."

"You can... you can call me Takashi, you know." Shiro told him, the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach having nothing to do with his disease. "I mean, if you want."

"Takashi." Adam repeated, smiling. "I like it."

"I mean, I hope so, seeing as it's my name." Shiro joked.

Adam had snorted, and somehow even though he was still confined to the Garrison's medical wing, things had felt more normal than they had in a long while. At the end of the month, he'd be getting the promised electro-stimulator, at which point he would be allowed to return to class- provided his leg had healed by that point, which it should.

If Adam sticking by him had been a bit of a surprise, then the bigger one was just how many visitors he got. While his disease was far from public knowledge, his mishap in the desert and subsequent broken leg _were_. Adam visited regularly, but that was a given- as did some of his teachers, mostly to bring him his assignments, stuff that he could work on while still in recovery. Sometimes Lieutenant Griffin showed up to check on him, as did Lieutenant Kinkade, who had taught him before he'd advanced to the fighter pilot track.

What _really _surprised him were the visits from his fellow cadets.

Hunk was the first to show up, armed with a tray of homemade get well cookies. Shiro had practically inhaled them, already growing sick and tired of the food they gave him in the medical ward. They had chatted a bit, mostly about the classes he was missing, and then he had left.

Shiro had assumed that would be the end of it, but it wasn't. To his surprise, it turned out that a lot of his fellow cadets actually _did _want to talk to him- he'd just given off an air that made him difficult to approach. But apparently doing something stupid like stealing a hoverbike and breaking his leg was enough to humanize him a bit in their eyes, knocking him down off the pedestal he'd unwittingly put himself on.

But the one visitor he'd expected the least was Keith.

"I take it I'm interrupting something."

Shiro and Adam both jerked back at the same time, the latter nearly falling off the bed before he managed to recover. Neither of them had even noticed Keith come in, they had been so engrossed in- well, it had started as Adam helping Shiro with one of his assignments, but it had sort of... _evolved _from there.

It wasn't like they were doing anything indecent- just sitting on the same bed together, holding hands. But somehow, being caught by _Keith _of all people was beyond mortifying. It didn't help that both of his previous encounters with the ex-mercenary had involved him catching him in an embarrassing situation- from practicing his confession to Adam, to screwing up a basic turn on his (stolen) hoverbike and wiping out.

If this was some kind of trend, he didn't like it.

"Just studying." Shiro hurriedly said. "That's all. What brings you here?"

Keith merely arched a brow. He swore there was a hint of a smile on his lips, but he quickly covered it. "Was in the neighborhood. Thought I should come see how you were doing."

"You were just in the neighborhood of the medical ward?" Adam asked, incredulously.

"Physical." Keith absently shrugged. "You're...?"

"Adam Warner." Adam introduced himself. "Takashi's boyfriend."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that part out." Keith said- and there was no denying the faint smile this time. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

He and Adam both flushed. Shiro cursed his fair complexion, since it made his flustered expression all the more visible- though he guessed he should just be grateful that he wasn't nearly as pale as Keith was. For someone who lived out in the desert, it didn't look like he got an awful lot of sun.

"S-so why the sudden physical?" Shiro stammered. "I thought those were supposed to happen at the start of the year. It's almost April."

Keith hummed, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. "Can't say. It's not official yet."

Thinking back on the rumors that he'd heard before- that Commander Holt wanted Keith to fly some kind of big mission- Shiro frowned. If it had taken convincing to just get Admiral Sanda to let him have a job, he couldn't imagine how much convincing it would take to allow her to approve him to go on a mission, much less be its main pilot.

"Are you saying the rumors are true?" Adam asked, a lot more blunt than he was.

Keith just shrugged again. "Like I said, I can't say yet."

Shiro and Adam exchanged a glance. That was about as big a confirmation as they could get without Keith actually saying anything. He felt a faint bit of hope bubble up inside of him at that. If even _Keith _could get clearance from Admiral Sanda to fly a big mission, then maybe there was hope for him yet.

"So... how's your leg?" Keith asked, his eyes darting down towards it. "Looks better."

"I get the cast off at the end of the week." Shiro told him. He nearly invited Keith to sign it, but then thought better of it- it felt a little childish. "The doctor says I'm healing well."

"Good to hear." Keith said, before hesitating, a slight frown touching his lips. "How's...?"

"I'm getting something that should help me manage the symptoms." Shiro told him. "So... better. I'll be sticking around for awhile yet."

Keith nodded. "Good. Would be a waste of talent if they'd made you leave. Probably would have ended up saying something to Sanda myself, for all that she listens to me."

"Pssh," Adam huffed, nudging his shoulder with his own, "-like the Garrison's going to let their golden boy go."

"Oh come on, nobody _actually _calls me that." Shiro said, rolling his eyes.

"Actually," Keith began, "-I'm pretty sure I've heard Commander Iverson say it."

Adam smirked, looking almost unbearably smug. "I knew it."

He shot a look at Keith, who just blinked, before shrugging again. "Just saying what I've heard. Anyways, I should go. Physical."

Keith turned on his heel to leave, when it occurred to Shiro that he'd forgotten to say something very important to him. "Wait!"

Keith frowned, glancing back at him. "Yeah?"

"I never thanked you." Shiro said. "You know, for helping me."

Keith's frown deepened, his brows knitting together. "I thought you did?"

Shiro shook his head. "I thanked you for saving me. I never thanked you for _helping _me."

"Oh," Keith blinked, a blank expression on his face that told him he didn't understand the difference, but wasn't totally willing to admit that, "-uh, you're welcome? I guess?"

Shiro just smiled. Even if Keith didn't understand, what he had said _had _helped. As gruff as Keith's exterior was, he was starting to understand that he was actually kind of soft underneath it. It was just that that softness was hampered, weighed down by whatever it was that he had experienced on the battlefield- not that it was hard to guess. Too much death, probably. Likely some at his own hands.

But he didn't... he didn't seem like such a bad person. Maybe he had done some things wrong- but at least to Shiro, it seemed an awful lot that he was trying to do things right now. Besides, he'd saved his life, had even gone the extra mile to help him out and then check up on him afterwards- if he was really such a bad person, he would have just left him there in the desert.

He was suddenly gripped by the urge to know more, the same curious spark that had prompted him to speak to him further on the roof. Why _was _he living in the desert? Didn't he have any family? Friends? How did someone as nice as Keith end up being a mercenary anyways?

"Can I come by the shack sometime?" Shiro blurted out, ignoring the way Adam arched his brows at the question. "For some pointers?"

The question caught Keith off guard, but in the end, he still cracked a faint smile. "Sure. Just try not to crash your bike this time."

"I'll try." Shiro promised. "And who knows? Maybe I'll catch up to you someday. It's not like you're getting any younger."

Keith's brows shot up, before his smile grew. "Is that a challenge, cadet?"

Shiro smiled right back. He still had a future. Maybe it wasn't the ideal future that he had wanted, but it wasn't as if it had vanished completely. He would just have to make the most of the time that he did have- and the best way to do that, he thought, was to set his sights on the best pilot the Galaxy Garrison had- and beat him.

"Absolutely."

"Fine," Keith grinned, "-bring it on."

* * *

"Christ, Takashi," Adam began, once Keith was gone, "-how many rivals do you even _need_?"

"Oh shut up." Shiro elbowed him. "You're just as bad."


	4. aries, of blood and luxite

It's time... time for gladiator Keith! Champion Keith! That's the good stuff right there. I have plans to follow this up in the near future with a chapter that will follow Shiro's POV, explaining why this whole crew is just chilling in Keith's shack and leading up to the discovery of the blue lion and possibly their landing on Arus. I don't know if I'll cover the part where they actually become paladins or not! We'll see!

Until next time!

* * *

**aries, of blood and luxite**

* * *

Kerberos had been the chance of a lifetime.

He'd recognized at the time that it was _too _good of a chance for him. He'd kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to be pulled from the mission and replaced at the last second, but it never happened. The launch went as planned, with him as the pilot, just like Sam wanted. He'd gotten his wish of going to space, and for awhile, everything seemed good.

At some point, he stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He really should have known better.

Even worse, this time he'd dragged innocent people along with him. He didn't even know where Sam and Matt _were_. He'd been separated from them shortly after their capture, and hadn't seen them since. All he could do was hope that they were still alive, and be grateful that he hadn't seen them in the arena. It was no place for them.

He, however, fit right in.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Keith shoved his hair back behind his ears. They wouldn't let him have anything to tie it up with, on the theory that he might somehow use it in the weapon- which was probably fair, he would. He'd debated maybe chopping it off just to be done with it, but he was too stubborn to. Changing himself to fit the arena just meant that he had resigned himself to being here, and he didn't want to do that.

Maybe this was karma. Maybe he deserved this. But Sam and Matt were still out there somewhere, and they didn't. He had to stay alive and find them, and then find a way to get away from the Galra, if not back to Earth. He didn't even know how many lightyears they were away from the planet he'd once called home, but had never truly been a part of.

For a long time, he'd always wondered why he'd never managed to fit in. It only took him twenty-five years and an alien abduction for him to find out why.

"The Champion fells yet another challenger!" A voice boomed over the speakers, more for the benefit of the audience than him. "Even diluted, Galra blood holds strong!"

_Galra blood_. He wished he could deny it, but not being fully human explained so much. It wasn't like he'd ever known his mother. Guess everyone who had called him a freak had been right.

Narrowing his eyes, Keith gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. He refused to drop his gaze, instead lifting it to stare at the crowd. Instinctively it fell on the most prominent location, the viewing box reserved for the monster who ran this whole show- Emperor Zarkon, ruler of the Galra Empire- and from the sound of it, much of the known universe. He wasn't present today, nor was his witch- and frankly, he was more grateful for her absence than he was for his.

He was too familiar with her already.

The crowd cheered- or they might have jeered. It was all the same to him. They might have slapped him with the fancy title of Champion, but he was just another prisoner to them. The fact that he shared at least half his blood with them didn't change the fact that he was here for nothing more than their entertainment, in the form of a violent, cruel bloodsport that forced him to fight other prisoners in a life or death match.

He tried not to kill any of them anyways. _Tried _being the optimal word.

He hadn't been successful today. The alien was too persistent, too determined- he'd faced a lot of aliens like that lately. They should have all be on the same side, all prisoners of the Empire, but they took his title as Champion as a challenge. If they defeated them, they could show the Galra that they weren't all they were cracked up to be. His supposed Galra blood didn't help matters much either. For something that had been a secret all his life, even from him, the Galra certainly didn't hesitate to advertise it.

Probably to illicit just this reaction, Keith thought, watching as the sentries dragged the dead prisoner away. He didn't know if their kind believed in any kind of afterlife, but if they did, he hoped they found peace in it. He wished he could muster more regret, but he'd spent too much time on the battlefield even before this to let it effect him too deeply.

He wondered if that was the Galra part of him.

"Is there anyone among you who seeks to challenge the Champion?" The announcer boomed. "Who among you can show the halfbreed the true might of the Galra Empire?"

Keith felt himself almost grin. He hated fighting prisoners, but this was the one part of this whole _Champion _thing that he actually _liked_. He'd already fought nearly half a dozen Galra stupid enough to take the bait, keen on proving to him their might, the superiority of their pure Galra blood over his mixed blood. None of them had succeeded thus far, and most of them were now dead. They would rather die trying to defeat him than accept their loss to a prisoner of mixed blood.

Victory or death, the Galra way.

He might pity the prisoners, but as far as he was concerned, one less bloodsport-loving asshole was to the good of everyone. He welcomed their challenges, no matter how dangerous they could be. It hadn't even been that long since he'd lost his left leg in one, though he hadn't been without it for long. Thinking about it made where it connected to his knee itch, but he resisted the urge to scratch it.

It was the witch's handiwork.

"Ah!" The announcer declared. "A challenger rises!"

Looking up, Keith followed the gaze of the crowd to pinpoint the person stupid enough to fight him. Even from here, he could tell the lieutenant was at least twice as tall as him, but it didn't intimidate him in the slightest. He'd endured too much for it to.

Raising his sword, he pointed it in their direction, baring his teeth in what he now knew to be an aggressive Galran gesture. If they thought he was going to just roll over and die, they had another thing coming.

* * *

Leaning back against the cold wall of his cell, Keith scratched his right cheek for the umpteenth time. The claw marks on the side of his face had long since healed, leaving behind scars- he'd just been lucky that he hadn't lost his eye. It had been the desperate attempt of a prisoner to break away from him, fearful that he was about to kill them- he hadn't, but the fear had been understandable.

They still itched sometimes, and though he usually tried to resist, there wasn't much to occupy him in the confines of his small cell. At least, not at the moment.

The boredom was still better than serving his role as a gladiator, and lightyears better than serving as a test subject for Zarkon's witch, but it was still bad. He'd never handled being confined to small spaces that well, but small spaces he couldn't leave freely were the worst. It reminded him too much of the countless hours spent in the back of some social worker's car, being driven from one foster home to the next.

He'd felt like a prisoner in some of those homes. Now that he was residing in an actual prison, he was starting to understand just how accurate those comparisons had been.

Closing his eyes, he dropped his hand away from his face, heaving a long sigh. Occasionally they kept him off of the arena floor just to build anticipation for his return, and now was one of those such times. He wasn't sure how much time had passed between now and his last match- it was hard to keep track of time around here. He was almost positive it had been longer than three days, but he couldn't be sure.

All he knew was that it was too long.

He didn't mind not fighting. That was fine. _More _than fine, actually. It was the lack of anything else to do that got to him.

While small, his cell was still at least big enough to move around in. He could do basic exercises, stuff like that, but nothing else. He'd already worked up a sweat earlier, which left him with nothing to do but think. Usually he spent the time trying to think up a way to escape, or a way to find Sam and Matt, but he'd currently exhausted all of his options. He'd definitely made no shortage of escape attempts. He was almost as infamous for them as he was for his status as Champion. None of them had ever come close to succeeding, but that never stopped him. If he saw a chance, he took it.

That said, in doing so he'd used up most of his more obvious options. He had to be a little more careful and a lot less impulsive if he was actually going to get out of here.

Wherever _here _was. He knew he was on some kind of a massive ship, he just didn't know _where_. In space, obviously, but he had no frame of reference for just how far he was from Earth. And as he was starting to learn, space was much, _much _bigger than he'd originally anticipated.

At times like these, there wasn't much left to contemplate other than things he didn't want to think about. Like his false leg, or if Sam and Matt really were still alive. Even those topics were better than dwelling on his own origins, but that was where his thoughts were taking him today. He'd always wondered why he had been so drawn to space, but now he had his answer- it was all the fault of his alien blood.

His mother's fault.

Narrowing his eyes, Keith dug his nails into the flimsy fabric of his prison clothes. His mom was one of those topics he tried not to think about in general, even back on Earth. There had never been an easy answer- she'd left him and his dad shortly after he'd been born, so she sounded like some kind of deadbeat, but his dad... the way he looked when he spoke about her, the way he sounded when he'd told him that she'd loved him, and that she didn't want to leave... he couldn't help but want to believe that.

After his dad died, when he was still young enough to be that naive, he used to have fantasies about her showing up out of the blue to take him back. Of course, he never knew what she looked like, so her appearance changed almost every time. There weren't any photos of her around the house, not even so much as a name.

He was starting to get why now.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got at his father. Why hadn't he told him something this important? Maybe if he'd _known_-

-then what? He'd somehow magically fit in better? Would he have ended up as something other than a mercenary soldier? Would his dad not have died? Even if he knew what he was, he didn't think that would change. Getting a job as a Galaxy Garrison test pilot had been like a miracle, and actually becoming a pilot for what was to be their most historic mission to date was way more than he probably ever deserved.

He'd even been able to befriend Sam and his family, but look where it had gotten them. Sam and Matt might not even be alive, and Colleen and Katie... he didn't know how he could ever apologize to them, supposing he _did _see them again, which he doubted. They had trusted him with the lives of their family, and he'd failed them.

Sure, maybe the Galra were to blame for that. But _he _was Galra too.

For all he knew, this could all still be _his _fault. Maybe all this time, he'd just been some kind of sleeper agent. Maybe his father had just been tricked. Maybe his mother was just as awful as the rest of them.

The only thin thread of hope he had that it wasn't true was the fact that he'd been asked- _interrogated_, actually- about his parents, his mother specifically. He didn't have any answers to give them, even after one of Haggar's cronies had rooted through his memories. They had left it well enough alone after that, not finding the answers they sought.

The only thing he had that connected him to her was his knife- and he'd left that back on Earth. Part of him was almost glad it was safe, but part of him was overcome by the desire to shoot it out the nearest airlock and be done with it. Not that the Galra would have let him keep it if he'd brought it with him, but...

Maybe it was for the best. It was still a memento of his father. He was sure Shiro would take care of both it and his hoverbike, just like he'd promised. It sucked that he wasn't going to be there for his and Adam's graduation, nor Katie's enrollment into the Garrison- if she even wanted to join them anymore, now that one of their missions had caused the disappearance of her father and older brother.

Knowing how the Garrison did things, he wouldn't be surprised if they'd declared them dead. He doubted Admiral Sanda would be willing to confess the truth, that aliens had been involved in their disappearance. Better and easier to just pass them off as dead. He grimaced at the thought- not so much for himself, but for Sam and Matt. He didn't think there was anyone who would mourn him.

Shiro maybe, and Adam too, but they'd get past it. They were both resilient kids, and it wasn't like he was _that _important to them anyways. If they just took care of his dad's hoverbike in his stead, maybe cleaned the shack on occasion, that would be enough for him.

It just sucked that Sam's name would inevitably be dragged through the mud. He'd fought for him to be the pilot of this mission, and it wasn't hard to guess that the Garrison would exploit that weak spot. Turn as much negative press away from them as possible, pin it all on a dead man's misplaced choice.

Maybe Admiral Sanda had been right. Maybe none of this would have happened if they hadn't picked him. The past few years at the Garrison had been some of the best since before his dad passed, so he should have really known that it was bound to come to an end at some point. He just hadn't anticipated how badly he'd crash and burn.

Picking up on the sound of heavy, metallic footsteps, he opened his eyes. The next patrol wasn't for another three minutes, and he'd just been fed not that long ago. His cell was the only one on this block that was occupied, which could only mean one thing.

His break from the arena was over.

* * *

He knew something was up from the moment the visitor entered his cell.

For one thing, he wasn't accompanied by any sentries. He recognized the man- he was a technician named Ulaz, who sometimes worked on his leg. In day to day usage, it would probably only require infrequent maintenance, but fighting in the arena day in and day out meant that it had to be looked after a lot more often. Thankfully, though his leg was Haggar's work, she'd delegated the actual maintenance of it to other people.

Ulaz was one of them.

He'd never actually introduced himself, but he was still familiar with his name. He'd heard him called by it once or twice. He was oddly... he didn't want to say kind, because he wasn't. But he wasn't _cruel_. His maintenance checks were purely professional. He never talked outside of asking the standard questions, but he never taunted him either, and didn't try to purposefully cause him pain like some of the others.

"Come with me." Ulaz said. The urgency in his voice made him frown.

Keith eyed him warily. No sentries, no visible restraints... something about this wasn't right.

"Why should I?" Keith asked.

"Because," Ulaz began, locking eyes with him for the first time since he had met him, "-I am helping you get out of here."

Now fully alert, but more suspicious than ever, Keith got to his feet. A Galra wanted to help him escape? Even if Ulaz wasn't as awful as the rest of his captors, that didn't make any sense to him. Was this some kind of trick?

"Why should I trust you?" Keith asked.

Ulaz didn't drop his gaze even as he pulled out a hidden knife. Keith braced himself for an attack, but none came- instead, he merely held the knife towards him, so that he could see the symbol that emblazoned on its hilt.

The _very _familiar symbol.

"Because I knew your mother." Ulaz told him.

For all that he had said it so easily, his words left Keith reeling. He knew his mother? And his knife... the shape of the blade was different, but the symbol on it was the same. When he'd first seen the symbol of the Galra Empire, he'd thought they were similar, but this one was an exact match. Even the way the blade glinted in the low light of his cell seemed the same.

Did he have some kind of connection to his mother? Had she... had she sent him?

He had a million questions he wanted to ask, but the one that came out was, "-why now?"

Why _now_, after all this time? He wasn't just talking about all the time that he had spent in captivity, though that was a part of it, yeah. But... why now? Why not after his father died? Why not any of countless times that he'd needed her, even long after he'd given up on his childish fantasy of her coming to his rescue? Why not _then_?

Why now, when he was already an adult?

Had she even sent Ulaz at all, or was he just doing this out of his own free will? Why wasn't she here herself? Didn't she care?

Who even was she?

He felt like a child again, back in the office of his first social worker. Compared to the inquires of Haggar's druids, her persistent questions about his mother seemed almost gentle in retrospect, but at the time, he remembered feeling more alienated and alone than ever- fitting, since it turned out his mother was _actually _an alien.

Ulaz put away his knife, all the while looking directly at him, but he couldn't bring himself to do the same. He didn't know what to think. First he was told his mother was Galra, and now a Galra that was associated with her somehow was helping him escape? Was it just sentiment? He didn't think the Galra were capable of such a thing.

(But then, what was it that his father had fallen in love with?)

"I know you must have questions," Ulaz began, "-but we only have time for one."

Looking up, Keith blinked, caught off guard by how... not kind, but how _understanding _Ulaz sounded. He wanted to get angry- how could he possibly understand what he had gone through? He'd been searching all his life for the reason why he was so different from everyone else, and when he found the answer, he wished he hadn't.

It was all because of his alien mother, who came from a war-like race of conquerors. Maybe it was always his fate that to end up in war. He was bred for it, it was in his blood. Maybe _that _was why life always tried to punish him every time he just tried to live in peace.

"What does the knife mean?" Keith finally asked, too afraid to ask the question he wanted most. "My mother, she left one just like it for me."

"It is a ceremonial blade." Ulaz replied, and for a second, he thought that was going to be it. So he was surprised when Ulaz chose to continue. "All those in the Blade of Marmora carry on."

Keith's brows knit together. "The Blade of Marmora?"

"Not all Galra follow Zarkon's rule." Ulaz said simply, in spite of the fact that he'd only promised one answer. "Now come on."

Keith hesitated, unsure if he should follow him or not. There were Galra who fought against Zarkon? And his mother was one of them? It almost sounded too good to be true, so much so that he had trouble believing it in spite of the evidence to the contrary.

He'd never been great at trusting people to begin with, but to trust a _Galra_? What if this was all just some sort of trap? Maybe this was a new form of entertainment for the fans of the arena. Watching their Champion at his most pathetic state, and then laugh as his hopes were crushed right before him. It sounded like something they would do.

And yet... part of him wanted to trust this strange Galra- and by extension, his mother.

He followed Ulaz.

* * *

So he'd admit it. That wasn't his best landing.

Stumbling out of the pod, Keith frowned, turning to look back at the wreckage. It was great that he had survived and all, but he didn't think the escape pod would ever be of much use again. He was just lucky he'd survived.

Not luck, he corrected himself- _skill_. He might not have been able to fly anything for over a year, but crashing aside, it didn't seem like his skills had gotten that rusty. He'd done pretty well considering he was flying an alien spacecraft. He'd just miscalculated how it would handle entry into Earth's atmosphere.

(It didn't, as it turned out.)

Earth. Turning away from the wreck, he took a deep breath, night air filling his lungs. The scent of the desert, the sounds... it was all just like it was when he'd left it. This was home. _His _home, alien blood or not. He might be part Galra, but he was human too. He'd been born and raised on this planet, and even though maybe not all of his memories were good- a lot of them were _bad_, actually- he still found that he wanted to protect this place, these people.

He'd seen terrible things during his time as mercenary. _Done _terrible things. He knew how capable humans were of cruelty firsthand, but there were still good people out there. If the Galra came, they would be the ones to suffer first.

People like Shiro and Adam, like Colleen and Katie. He couldn't let that happen.

He just needed to find this _blue lion_ thing before the Galra did.

Huffing slightly, Keith took a second to take stock of his surroundings. He couldn't stay here much longer, not unless he wanted the Garrison to swoop in. If he got them involved, it might take him forever to get clearance to leave, if he was even allowed to do that much. He'd been abducted by aliens, only to return to Earth a year later, crashing an alien spaceship into the desert- not to mention the fact that he had an alien prosthetic.

Oh right. There was the part where he was half-alien too. Couldn't forget that.

So yeah, he was better off avoiding the Garrison for now. He'd get in contact with Colleen and Katie if he could, but for now, they weren't his priority. The blue lion was.

(He felt bad about it, but there was nothing he could do. Just like there had been no way for him to save Matt and Sam and bring them home with him. Even Ulaz didn't know where they were, only that they were 'probably alive'. Not very reassuring.)

The desert was pitch black- not even the moon was out, and the stars were all hidden behind a thin layer of clouds. It didn't trouble him at all- in hindsight, his night vision must have been a Galra trait. He'd never had any trouble navigating the dimly lit ships of the Galra Empire, so maybe his mother's people were a species who did best under low light. He didn't dwell on it long, quickly moving away from the shuttle. He had a rough idea of where his shack was and how to get there- he'd thought about landing the pod near it, but he'd quickly discarded the idea. Even if he hadn't crashed, the Garrison would have picked up on his pod landing, and the last thing he wanted to do was lead them right to him.

He'd get back to the shack, take a shower, grab a change of clothes, and set out looking for this blue lion. Ulaz had given him only a brief, extremely unhelpful description of it- it was supposed to be some kind of superweapon, one that the Galra Empire couldn't be allowed to get their hands on. And it was, supposedly, hidden somewhere on Earth.

In the desert.

Near his childhood home.

Keith frowned, not sure if he liked where his thoughts were taking him. Had his dad known about it? Had his _mom_? Was that why she'd come here?

He shook the thought off. He'd decided to trust Ulaz for now, and this _Blade of Marmora_ he claimed both he and his mother worked for. Checking to see that the transponder he had given him was still securely tucked away in his boot, he started navigating his way through the desert. He stopped every now and then to erase his tracks, making it harder for him to be followed.

Some distance away from the crashed pod, he made out the distant lights of what surely were Garrison vehicles. Looks like he was right on the money.

He made haste after that. He might be quick on his feet, but he wasn't quick enough to outrun a moving vehicle if it came down to it, so better not be caught in the first place. For all he knew, the Garrison might have gone through his physical results again and came to the conclusion that his results were way too anomalous to be human. The last thing he wanted was to end up strapped to a table somewhere. He'd had enough of that with the Galra, he didn't need to experience it on his own home planet.

He only slowed down again when he was sure no one was following him. In spite of running full steam across the desert sands for several solid minutes, he was barely even winded. His stamina was probably just another thing about him that was Galra- at this point, he was starting to wonder just what it was about him that was even _human_, other than his looks. He knew his physical results had always been enough to shoot people's brows through the roof, but maybe he was more alien than he'd ever realized.

His hand strayed self-consciously towards the white streak that ran through his hair. He wasn't sure when it had appeared, just like he wasn't sure if it was due to his Galra blood, or if it was just because of the stress. Hell, it could even be due to the quintessence for all he knew. Wouldn't surprise him.

Tucking the strand behind his ear, he huffed. He'd never really cared about his appearance, so he wasn't about to start now.

Finally he picked out the roof of his shack in the distance. He had to stop in his tracks, momentarily overcome by the fact that he'd been able to find his way back home, even after everything he'd been through. It sounded so impossible, that he was driven to pinch himself, to check and see if this was all just a dream.

It wasn't, but neither were the lights he could just barely make out in his shack. Narrowing his eyes, Keith felt a low growl bubble up in the back of his throat. There was no way it was the Garrison, so had someone taken up residence in his home while he was gone?

Clenching his fists, he stormed towards the shack without a second thought. He'd show them that there were consequences for invading a person's house! He didn't care if he was supposed to be dead, or if they thought it was just some random, abandoned shack. To him it was all he had left of his childhood home! To think that someone would just barge in and-

He came to a dead halt, the sound of a familiar voice stopping him in his tracks. At this distance, he couldn't pick out what they were saying, but there was no mistaking that voice. Shoulders slumping, Keith exhaled.

That voice was definitely Shiro's- and from the sound of it, Adam was with him. They both knew where the shack was, and he'd always let them come over whenever they wanted. If it was them in the shack, then it was fine.

Although... he wondered what had brought them out here so late at night. Judging from the position of the moon, it had to be well past midnight.

"I'm just saying," he heard Shiro say, "-I think we should check it out."

"And I'm saying that's not a good idea." He heard Adam respond. "By now it's probably crawling with people from the Garrison. If they find out that we snuck out past curfew, then we're _all _in major trouble. They probably have the whole Garrison on lockdown by now."

"I mean," a third, entirely unexpected yet completely familiar, voice chimed in, "-technically we snuck out _before _the lockdown started."

_Katie_. Why was Katie- he'd never brought her out to the shack before. The only member of the Holt family who had even come out here was Sam, and it had only been the one time. He didn't even think she knew where it was, much less that she knew Shiro and Adam. Then again, he had been gone for at least a year, if Ulaz was to be believed- maybe she'd joined the Garrison during that time?

"Uh, I'd just like to point out," a fourth voice chimed in, one that he definitely didn't recognize, "-that even if they buy that, it doesn't change the fact that we still all snuck out after curfew."

"Hey, no one said you two had to follow me." Katie snapped.

"Geez, calm down, Pidge." A fifth voice, also unfamiliar, said defensively. "No need to get so worked up. Anyways, I'm with Shiro. We should _totally _check out whatever it was that crashed."

Coming to a dead halt, Keith blinked. He wasn't sure what he was more caught off guard by- the fact that there were like, _five _people in his shack, two of whom he (probably) didn't even _know_, or that they were talking about _him_. Or, well, sort of- to be more exact, they were talking about the pod he'd crashed. It made sense- there was no way they _hadn't_ seen that from here.

Hesitating, he shifted on his feet. Should he really go in there? Maybe he should just wait for them to leave- he didn't need to deal with any extra trouble right now.

But Katie was in there- and Shiro, and Adam too. All people he thought he would never see again. And while he had no idea who the other two voices belonged to, they had to be cadets, and there was no way he going to let himself be terrified of the prospect of potentially interacting with _children_. His social skills weren't _that _bad, thanks.

Besides, this was his house! He shouldn't be nervous about going into his own house!

Sucking in a deep breath, he crossed the last remaining distance, until he was standing on the front porch of the shack. They must have heard him, because after a few not so hushed swears, everything inside went deadly quiet. Huffing slightly, Keith strode forward, the porch creaking with every step. He didn't miss how it creaked louder underneath his left foot than his right, but it seemed to hold up, at least.

Reaching for the handle, he swung it open. The cadets were in the process of hastily covering something up, but everyone froze at the sight of him- no one more so than Shiro, who Keith couldn't help but find first.

Shiro stared at him in disbelief. "Keith...?"

"What?" Keith began. "You thought you could have a slumber party at my house without inviting me?"

Shiro stared at him for a second longer, until he finally managed to snap his jaw shut. He nearly vaulted over the makeshift table and before he knew it, had him in a tight embrace. The part of his brain that still worked noted that he'd gotten taller since the last time he'd seen him- he was just shy of his chin now. He must have had a growth spurt while he was gone or something.

The rest of his brain was completely fried, however, having shorted out the second Shiro hugged him. He wasn't used to people doing that, so he didn't quite know what to make of it. He didn't think Shiro cared this much for him, even if they were on friendly terms. And sure, he'd sort of started to secretly think of Shiro like a kid brother over the years, but he'd thought that was just a one-sided thing- a misplaced longing for family from someone who hadn't had any in far too long.

(Except he had family now, didn't he? His mother was alive.)

"You're _alive_." Shiro whispered, like he was almost afraid to say it too loudly. Like acknowledging it would strike him dead.

Swallowing, Keith hesitantly returned the hug, forcing himself not to pay attention to the other four people in the room, all of whom were still gawking at his very not dead self. He knew how he must look- dirty and covered in grime, possibly even old, dried alien blood. He had a single sink in his cell with which to wash himself, and that was it. He could only imagine how matted his hair had gotten, and though his alien prosthetic wasn't visible with his shoes on, anyone could see his scars and the white streak in his hair.

Ugh, he probably smelled too. He wasn't sure how Shiro was even managing to hug him. He had to be thoroughly disgusting.

"Hey," Keith managed, "-it'll take more than being abducted by aliens to kill me."

"Aliens?" Adam asked softly, still rooted to his spot across the room. "So Pidge was right?"

Keith frowned, looking across the room towards Katie. _Pidge _was a playful nickname her brother had given her, but he wasn't sure why she was going by it now. She met his eyes, a burning curiosity in her gaze, one that he knew he couldn't deny. He owed her an explanation, and then some.

"Aliens," Keith repeated, "-the Kerberos mission was abducted by aliens."


	5. gemini, of reunions

Part two of two! Probably the next time I update this series, I'll go back in time a bit to pre-Kerberos so I can write about Keith's relationship with the Holts in this verse. After that I'm not one hundred percent sure, but there's definitely a bunch of things that I want to touch on for this verse, so stay tuned, I guess? Anyways, thanks for reading!

* * *

**gemini, of reunions**

* * *

Shiro anxiously shifted on his feet, listening to the sound of water coming from the other room. Keith was in there, and while he could hardly begrudge the man a shower, he also really wanted to hear about what had happened on Kerberos, and how he managed to find his way back to Earth.

Adam rested a hand on his shoulder, giving him an understanding smile. He returned it, resting his own hand over Adam's. He was glad he was here, even though he'd originally been against sneaking out of the Garrison tonight. He'd always been a bit more of a stickler for the rules than him, in spite of what his status as the Galaxy Garrison's 'golden boy' might suggest.

"So is that the real Keith Kogane?"

Peering around Adam, Shiro looked at the person who had spoken. He'd arranged beforehand to meet up with Pidge, but he hadn't expected to see his flight partners in tow. When he'd asked, he'd just shrugged and said that he couldn't find a way to ditch them. Thankfully he knew both of them- Lance McClain and Hunk Garrett were just a year under him, the former a cargo pilot and the other an engineer.

He didn't exactly talk to them that much, but he did know them. They had their own social circles, and as a cargo pilot, Lance was instructed by different teachers than him. He'd known that they were Pidge's assigned flight partners, but he hadn't realized that they were so close.

Although... based on the way Pidge was acting, neither had _Pidge_.

"That's him alright." Adam answered for him.

"Huh," Lance frowned, "-I always thought he'd be taller."

Shiro snorted in spite of himself. "Don't let him hear you say that."

Keith wasn't exactly _short_, but he was still smaller than James Griffin, a fact which seemed to annoy him, though he'd never actually own up to it. He was pretty confident that in a few years, both he and Adam would overshoot him, though for now he was still shorter than the ex-mercenary.

"He used to be a mercenary, right?" Hunk asked nervously.

Shiro frowned. He was used to people giving Keith a wary berth due to his history, but it sort of bothered him coming from Hunk, who was otherwise so _nice_. "He's not like that."

He really wasn't. Stoic, maybe, but he'd never seen Keith be _violent_. He seemed to view his job at the Garrison as a kind of second chance, a way to redeem himself. From what, he never said- and Shiro never asked. It was the unspoken rule of their friendship that he wouldn't pry, and in turn, neither would Keith.

The sound of water stopped, cutting off all conversation. They waited almost with baited breath for Keith to emerge. His hair was still damp when he finally did, but it had been tied back into his customary ponytail, and he'd changed into clean clothes. He'd dug out his usual dark red aviator jacket and combat boots, though his usual pair of jeans looked oddly snug over his left leg. He was still fussing with it when he came out of the shower, only stopping when he realized that everyone was looking at him.

He mouthed a silent _oh_, and Shiro briefly got the impression that he'd forgotten they were all there. Pulling his hand away from his left leg, he instead gave them all a curt nod.

"Cadets." He said stiffly.

"Mister Kogane." Shiro replied with a hint of mirth.

Keith just snorted, taking the towel that was around his shoulders and tossing it on a nearby chair, before he collapsed into it. Picking up the fingerless gloves he'd left behind, he tugged them on. "Just for the record, you _do _know this is my house, right?"

"This is your _house_?" Lance asked, stunned. "But it's a-!"

"Don't finish that." Keith cut him off, then stared at him, perplexed. "Who are you anyways? One of Shiro's friends?"

"Well..." Lance trailed off, shifting on his feet.

"Yes." Shiro said quickly. "They're my friends. Keith, these are Lance, Hunk, and Pidge."

Keith frowned, his brows knitting together as he glanced in Pidge's direction, all but ignoring Lance and Hunk. "I know who Pidge is. You don't need to introduce h-"

"You said something about aliens." Pidge said quickly, cutting him off.

Shiro frowned, slightly curious as to what Keith was going to say. He wasn't aware that they even knew each other, seeing as Pidge had only joined the Garrison after the supposed failure of the Kerberos mission. Maybe they had met somewhere else? Plaht City wasn't _that _far from here, and he was fairly confident that was where Pidge was from, even if he'd never actually specified. Contrary to his image, it wasn't like Keith was a _total _hermit who never left his house and never talked to other people.

He was just... awkward. That was all. Like he'd missed a few steps here and there.

Keith's expression hardened, giving them a curt nod. "I did."

"So is it true?" Hunk asked. "Was the Kerberos mission really taken by aliens?"

"Yeah, the Garrison said you were all dead in space." Lance said.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Keith asked, arching a brow. Hauling himself to his feet, he brushed past the cadets, peeking in the cabinets on the other side of the room that Shiro knew contained non-perishables. "You didn't eat all my food, did you?"

"Some of us have palates that are a little more sophisticated." Adam remarked dryly.

Frowning, Keith glanced back towards him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means not all of us can live off beans and pop-tarts." Adam said.

"And canned coffee." Shiro chimed in.

"And free bank lollipops." Pidge muttered, half under his breath. Shiro glanced his way, arching a slight brow. Guess he knew Keith pretty well if he new that little tidbit of information.

Keith huffed slightly, but it was impossible to decipher if he actually took offense at that statement. He dug out a can of beans, cracking it open with a small knife, ignoring the face Adam made as he proceeded to dig into it with a spoon, not even bothering to heat it up first. Hunk just looked aghast, but didn't dare say anything.

"So what's the Garrison's official story?" Keith asked. "No, wait, let me guess- it's me, isn't it? They said I crashed or something."

"Pretty much." Shiro frowned. "The media's not exactly painting the best picture of you. Admiral Sanda took a lot of heat for letting you fly the mission in the first place."

"What else is new?" Keith asked, apparently unperturbed by his own reputation.

"They say you bribed Commander Holt to let you fly the mission." Pidge said.

Arching a brow, Keith tilted his head. "Why are you talking about him like-"

Clearing his throat, Pidge glared at him. Whatever he was trying to silently convey, it was flying right over Keith's head. "Can we just get back to the aliens?"

"Aliens," Keith repeated, his expression somewhat clouded, almost indecipherable, "-right."

Shiro's frown deepened, taking the chance to take a good look at Keith. He had changed in the time he was gone- and not just physically either. The white streak in his otherwise dark hair stood out, but not as much as the claw marks on his face, raking his right cheek. The bags underneath his eyes had deepened, hinting at many sleepless nights. It was also in the way he held himself- a certain level of wariness that he hadn't quite had before.

Keith had always been wary, guarded. He'd spent too long on the battlefield, he'd told him once, in one of those rare moments he almost opened up about his time as a mercenary. It was a habit. But he'd eventually started to let his guard down around him and Adam.

Not anymore.

Finishing off the can of beans, he set it aside. "We made it to Kerberos just fine. We'd been there for about three days when they came. We didn't stand a chance."

"What about the rest of the crew?" Pidge asked.

Keith just shook his head, staring down at the floor. "I don't know. I was separated from them early on. I never saw them in the arena, so they might have been brought to one of the work camps instead."

"The arena?" Shiro asked, not liking the sound of that. "What's that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Keith said shortly. "Look, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that before long, they'll be coming _here_."

Hushed silence fell over the shack, broken only by the sound of Keith's boots on the wooden floor as he made his way across it a second time. They all watched in silence as he pried up one of the floorboards and pulled out a lockbox. Setting it down on the makeshift table, he glanced up at them, arching a brow.

"If you want to panic or something, don't let me stop you." Keith said.

"Panic?" Hunk nervously laughed. "Who's panicking? I mean, you only just said that a bunch of hostile aliens were headed our way."

Keith ducked his head, but not before Shiro saw something flash through his eyes. "Don't worry. If I find what I'm looking for, they should leave the Earth alone."

"What, you have something to chase away alien invaders in your sh- your house?" Lance asked incredulously.

"No?" Keith gave Lance a blank look. "Why would I have something like that in my house?"

Lance opened his mouth to respond, but quickly snapped it shut, apparently thinking better of it. Keith shrugged, turning his attention back to the lock box. He toyed with the padlock for a few seconds before he cracked it, opening the box.

Shiro blinked. He knew Keith was strong for his frame, but he hadn't thought he was quite _that _strong. Then again, it could have just been a flimsy lock- or rusted. It had been sitting underneath the floorboards for at least a year, and the desert had a way of wearing things down when they weren't being properly maintained. He'd been doing regular maintenance on Keith's hoverbike for that very reason.

"Why are you here, anyways?" Keith asked, fetching a familiar pair of objects from inside of the lockbox. One was a worn out set of dog tags, which he put on, tucking them inside his shirt, and the other was the knife he always carried. He frowned, staring at it for a few seconds before he sheathed it at his back. There were other items in the box too, but Keith ignored them, shutting it.

"It's... kind of a long story." Shiro said, glancing over towards Pidge. "I've been helping Pidge here out with a project of his."

Keith's brow shot up again, but this time he opted not to say anything, instead looking Pidge's way. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Pidge said stiffly. "I knew there was something fishy about the Garrison's claims, right from the start, so I went looking for answers. Once I realized that there was no evidence of any crash on Kerberos, I began looking into what _had _happened."

"And somehow that lead you to aliens." Lance said.

"Laugh all you want, but we've got living proof now that I was right." Pidge said, pointing towards Keith.

Keith, in response, went stiff, turning several shades paler. "Proof? Why would I be proof?"

Pidge frowned, staring at him like he was some kind of an idiot. "You literally escaped from alien captivity. How are you _not _proof?"

"Oh," Keith blinked, seeming to relax, "-right. Yeah. That."

Pidge stared at him for a few seconds longer, before he shook his head. "Anyways, the reason we're all out here is two-fold. I've been monitoring alien radio chatter, and Shiro found some weird caves. The latter seemed to indicate that something was going to happen tonight, so Adam and Shiro came out here to investigate. And then the chatter started going crazy-"

"Wait," Keith said, "-weird caves? What weird caves?"

"They have all these carvings of lions." Shiro said.

"_Blue _lions, to be exact." Adam added.

If he thought Keith was alert before, then it was obvious he had his full attention now. "Show me."

"What?" Shiro blinked.

"Show me where the caves are." Keith said.

"Wha- _now_?" Lance asked. "It's like, pitch black outside."

"You don't have to come." Keith said, looking his way with a frown. "This doesn't involve you."

"Oh no, I am not backing out now after I've come this far." Lance said.

"I don't know, Lance..." Hunk trailed off, twiddling his thumbs. "I mean, these are _aliens _we're talking about here. Maybe we should just let the professionals deal with them?"

"The professionals?" Pidge asked, casting a skeptical glance towards Hunk. "Who? The Garrison? Their response to the existence of aliens so far has been to _ignore _it."

Keith just heaved a sigh, clearly impatient. Whatever it was about the caves that had caught his attention, it was clearly important. "Look, you can all come. But we need to move now. The faster we find what it is the Galra are looking for, the better."

"The Galra? Are those the aliens?" Hunk asked.

Keith just wordlessly nodded, before looking back towards Shiro. "Well? Can you show me where the caves are or not?"

Even as someone who had gotten used to Keith's sometimes brusque tone, Shiro flinched. Realizing that he'd overstepped, Keith took a step back, drawing in a deep breath.

"Sorry." Keith said. "It's just- this is important."

"I can already tell that much." Shiro said, getting to his feet. "I can show you the way. It's not far. We could probably walk there."

"Any chance you've got like, a flashlight in this dump?" Lance asked.

Keith frowned, considering the question. Wordlessly he made his way across the shack, opening a worn looking trunk. He rifled around it for a few minutes, before he produced a large flashlight. Checking the batteries, he tossed it to Lance, who scrambled to catch it.

"Just the one, huh?" Lance asked.

Keith just shrugged, shutting the trunk. "You don't have to come."

Lance just frowned, seeming more set than ever on coming. Heaving a sigh, Keith resigned himself to the extra company.

"Fine." He said. "Let's move."

* * *

Keith explained more on the way- or tried to. He didn't seem to know much either, only that he had been told that the Galra were looking for something called the _blue lion_, and that it was some kind of superweapon. Hence, his interest in the caves.

He seemed to know a fair bit more about the Galra Empire, though- and with each detail he provided, Shiro kind of wished he didn't. An alien empire so vast that it spanned several galaxies was tough enough to wrap his head around as it was, without the added fact that it's current ruler, a Galra known as Zarkon, had been its Emperor for the past _ten thousand years_. It almost sound made up, but he trusted Keith.

Even if he _was _being awfully cagey about a few details- namely, who had told him about the blue lion in the first place. From the sound of it, they had helped him escape the Galra, which made Shiro wonder if _they _were Galra. It seemed an odd detail to be elusive about, since in any regime there were bound to be a few who didn't follow the crowd, but he was sure Keith had his reasons.

He kept periodically glancing over towards Pidge, who sometimes periodically glanced over towards him. The few times their eyes met, it was usually Pidge who looked away first. There was something else going on there too, but he wasn't sure that was any of his business.

He was just glad to have Keith back. When he'd heard about the failure of the Kerberos mission, he hadn't wanted to believe it. He didn't think someone like Keith could _fail_.

But everyone else sure seemed ready to believe it. An ex-mercenary with no formal flight training should have never been allowed up there in the first place, much less at the Garrison at all. Admiral Sanda had taken heat for it, but she'd been swift to pin the blame entirely on Commander Holt, who obviously couldn't say anything in his defense.

Adam had stuck by him, but he hadn't found anyone else who had believed him. Not until he met Pidge, at least. And while his theory about aliens had seemed far-fetched at first, he couldn't deny that he had compelling proof. Finding the caves had only cemented it.

"You okay?"

Jerking his head up at the sound of Keith's voice, Shiro realized he'd been rubbing his right wrist. He wore a cuff there now, designed to help stimulate his muscles and keep them loose. It was one of the treatments for his disease, and while it had been effective so far, he knew eventually it would become less and less so. Still, that probably wouldn't happen for another ten, fifteen years or so, and with graduation right around the corner, that gave him plenty of time to forge a career for himself as a pilot.

He just wished it could be longer.

"Yeah." Shiro smiled. "I'm fine."

Keith frowned, his eyes glinting strangely in the low light provided by the flashlight. "Just wanted to be sure. It's been awhile."

"Do you think I'd let him go gallivanting around the desert in the middle of the night if he wasn't?" Adam asked. "Someone in this relationship has to have common sense."

Even after knowing him for a few years, Keith's laughter was somehow always unexpected. The low chuckle Adam's jab earned was no exception. "Sound logic."

"Wow," Shiro huffed, "-so you trust Adam's judgement more than mine?"

"When it comes to your health?" Keith asked. "Yes."

"You _do _tend to push yourself." Adam said.

"Ugh," Shiro crinkled his nose, "-you're both impossible."

"Thanks." Keith said, even as Adam said, "-you're welcome."

They trekked in silence for awhile after that. Or close enough to it- Lance and Hunk, who were bringing up the rear occasionally whispered to themselves, but it was never loud enough for him to hear. He suspected Keith could, because every so often he'd angle his head back to look at them, and the whispering would quickly stop.

He never looked outright annoyed, but Keith either wore his face like an open book or like a mask, with no in-between. He suspected it was more of the latter tonight.

He had so much he wanted to ask him- about his scar, his hair, any number of things. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, at least, not with other people around. Keith was a private person, and in spite of spending a fair amount of time with him, he only knew a precious few things about him- like how he was an orphan, or how he'd grown up in the desert. How in spite of liking bitter things, he also had a sweet tooth, and his eating habits, as Adam described them, were atrocious.

The trek from Keith's shack to the caves wasn't a long one, but it still felt too short when they arrived. He stopped abruptly, nearly overshooting them, only Keith managing any semblance of grace at the sudden, unexpected stop.

"We're here." Shiro announced.

Lifting the flashlight, Lance pointed it at the mouth of the cave. "You're sure this is the place?"

"What, did you think it would have a neon sign out in front of it or something?" Pidge asked, gesturing towards the entrance. "Alien superweapon here?"

Lance huffed, glaring at him. "No. I just- you know what, nevermind. Why don't we just go inside?"

Keith just nodded, almost effortlessly picking his way down towards the cave. He made it down in half the time as the rest of them, everyone else carefully picking out safe places to step. The sun began to peek over the horizon just as Hunk made it down, but they could barely see it from where they were.

Keith trudged on ahead, stopping just short of the entrance, waiting for them to catch up. He sniffed the air, a habit of his, and frowned slightly. "I smell water."

"Are you sure?" Adam asked, taking a whiff himself. "I don't smell anything."

"All I smell is cave." Hunk reported.

"Maybe there's groundwater?" Pidge suggested.

"I don't know." Shiro said. "I've never seen any water. Just the carvings."

Lance shone the flashlight into the cave, illuminating the entrance. They were still hard to see in the dark, but the cave and its numerous lion carvings could just barely be made out. It was enough to impress, at least, as his fellow cadets wandered in with a certain sense of awe- all save for Adam, who'd seen them before. As the sun rose higher over the horizon, it illuminated more of the cave, increasing the sense of wonder.

"They're everywhere." Keith mumbled from in front of him, having gone much deeper into the cave than anyone else dared to in the dark. With the light starting to filter in, Shiro caught up to him, everyone else carefully following suit.

"Who made these?" Pidge asked.

"Native Americans, maybe?" Lance suggested.

"Do we even _have _lions in America?" Hunk asked, warily glancing over his shoulder like he expected one to pop up right then and there.

"We have mountain lions." Keith said, fingers tracing one of the carvings. "But I don't think these carvings are about an _actual _lion."

"Kinda dusty, aren't they?" Lance asked, moving to wipe away some grime from the closest carving.

Pidge opened his mouth to retort, only to hastily snap it shut. The carving suddenly began to glow, blue light lighting up the cave as the other carvings joined it. Then no one had the chance to say anything, because the ground underneath them suddenly opened up, and the next thing he knew, they had all been dropped into a small pool of water.

A small pool of water in front of a _giant, robotic blue lion._

"No way," Lance said, stumbling to his feet and staring at the lion in awe, "-it's actually _real_."

In spite of the implication that he'd made everything up, Keith didn't say anything in his defense. He just staggered to his feet, staring at the lion with wide eyes. It was being protected by some kind of barrier, which provided the only light in the otherwise dark cavern. The flashlight that Lance had been holding had shattered into pieces on impact, all of which were already starting to be carried away by the underground river to who knows where.

"This is incredible." Pidge said, surging forward. "This _has _to be what they were talking about. This is the Voltron."

"It must be." Keith half-whispered, a certain quiet reverence to his voice that Shiro had never heard before. He closed the gap between himself and the lion, gently resting a hand on the barrier that protected it. "How do you think this works?"

"Maybe you just have to knock?" Lance suggested, before doing exactly that.

Once again, a retort from Pidge died in unspoken in his throat. The barrier burst apart in a surge of light, and in that moment, he saw it- the true form of Voltron. It was beyond anything he could have imagined, and yet for some reason, it seemed almost painfully familiar to him.

"Did you guys all see that?" Lance asked, pivoting on his heel to glance frantically back at them. Shiro found that he could only nod, still in awe over what he'd seen.

"Voltron is a robot," Hunk breathed, "-Voltron is a huge, awesome robot!"

Keith just muttered something underneath his breath, his eyes not leaving the lion. Turning towards Adam, Shiro found his boyfriend's face screwed into a frown.

"Is everything okay?" Shiro asked.

"I didn't see anything." Adam admitted. "Are you sure you guys saw something?"

"Oh, we did." Lance said firmly. "We _definitely _did. I think it wants us to-"

Lance didn't get to finish what he was saying, cut off by the lion itself. What he'd thought was simply just a ship stood up and roared, the sound filling the cavern and nearly drowning out Hunk and Pidge's cries of surprise- or maybe fear.

But all Shiro could feel was awe.

* * *

Things happened in swift order after that, leaving very little time for them to think, much less stop to breathe. They had all loaded into the blue lion, which Lance had decided to take for a test spin- and if Shiro was going to be honest, proving why he was a cargo pilot and not a fighter pilot at the same time, but he kept that to himself.

(Keith didn't, but he wasn't exactly known for having much of a filter.)

Then the next thing they knew, they were in Earth's orbit, and there was an alien ship bearing down on them. Keith had recognized it as being Galra, and only seconds afterwards, it began firing on them. They had been successful in luring it away from Earth, making it all the way to Kerberos in just a few seconds, far faster than any of their ships could go. They only managed to escape pursuit by slipping through a _wormhole _of all things, and only then did they all get the chance to catch their breath.

They had landed in front of some kind of castle, though it was unlike any castle Shiro had ever seen. It was no less regal for it, the glowing blue of the spires providing a stark contrast to the white. It was massive, towering well above both them and the lion alike, creating almost as much of a sense of awe as the lion had.

Only Keith seemed to be on his guard, narrowing his eyes at the sight of it. Unspoken, he put himself at the head of the group, even though Shiro knew he typically lagged towards the back. He didn't like showing his back, and old habits died hard.

The castle itself lead the way, illuminating the path which they should take. They followed it, heading deeper in, the castle silent and eerie, like they were the only ones there. It wasn't until they arrived at where it was leading them that they discovered this wasn't the case.

For all that they were in a Castle, Shiro hadn't expected a princess. Nor had said princess expected them.

If Shiro felt wonder at meeting an alien princess, then the only thing this _Princess Allura_ felt meeting them was despair.

The paladins of old were dead, and her home lay in ruins, destroyed by the Galra Empire. Everything and everyone she knew and loved were gone, in what was to her just the blink of an eye. But in that despair, she turned to them and saw something in them- and that despair turned into hope.

"Voltron is the universe's only hope." She would tell them later. "_We _are the universe's only hope."

He just hoped he was ready to _be _that hope.

* * *

"Hey, you okay?"

Shiro glanced up at the sound of Keith's voice, offering the older man a weak smile. "Just tired."

"Who wouldn't be, after today?" Keith asked, collapsing on the couch next to him. Almost everyone else had gone to bed already- Adam had lingered a bit longer than the rest, but eventually had sensed Shiro's need for privacy and had left.

"It _was _pretty hectic, wasn't it?" Shiro asked.

Keith frowned, tucking his left leg up on the couch. He rubbed at his knee almost idly, not dissimilar to the way he rubbed his own wrist.

"Is your leg okay?" Shiro asked.

"Huh?" Keith blinked, glancing down at it. "Oh. Yeah, it's fine."

It felt like a lie, and though he was tempted to press, he forced himself not to. Keith had just escaped from the Galra- he wasn't sure if he was ready to open up about what he'd experienced while he had been their prisoner. According to Pidge, the prisoners that they had rescued had called him Champion, and had seemed extremely wary of him, but he knew Keith too well to let that effect his impression of him.

"So how's your...?"

"Fine." Shiro said, resisting the urge to rub his wrist. "Adam made me promise to talk to Coran tomorrow, if he has time. If _we _have time. I have a feeling we're going to go through some pretty intense training in the near future. Allura seems... intense."

Keith snorted. "Can't be any worse than Sanda."

Shiro just chuckled, enjoying sitting in silence with Keith for a few minutes. For his part, the newly minted red paladin let out a loud yawn, but made no move to actually head to bed. They had all been provided quarters by the princess once the chaos had died down, but Shiro had only briefly been in his. He was still pretty wired from today.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Shiro asked.

"Hm?" Keith frowned. "You mean my leg? Like I said, it's-"

"No, not that." Shiro shook his head. "I mean... you have the most experience here out of any of us. You should be the black paladin."

Keith let out a bark of laughter, so loud that it startled him. "I've never lead anything in my entire life, and I don't think it's a good idea to start now, when the fate of the universe is at stake. Anyways, I don't think it works like that."

Shiro frowned. He knew Keith was probably right. The lions chose their paladins- that's what Allura had told them. But it still didn't feel right to him that he should be the leader. He was just a cadet. Sure, he was only a handful of months away from graduation, but a cadet was a cadet.

Even if part of him was jumping at the chance to be black paladin. Eighteen felt awfully young to be worried about his legacy, and yet... time had always felt so _finite _to him, ever since his diagnosis. And what would be a better legacy than leading the force that helped free most of the known universe from tyranny?

"You never know," Keith began, pointedly looking at his right wrist, which Shiro realized he'd been rubbing again, "-these Alteans seem pretty high tech. They might even be able to come up with a cure."

"Maybe." Shiro said. "I just don't want to get my hopes up."

Keith shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

It was tempting, the thought that these aliens, these Alteans, might be able to _cure _him. To live his life free of his disease... even if it wasn't bad yet, he knew one day it would be. But if they couldn't... well, he just didn't want to be let down. Better to manage his expectations.

"I should probably get some sleep." Shiro said, getting to his feet. "What about you?"

"I'm going to lurk around a bit longer." Keith told him. "Are you sure you didn't want Allura to give you and Adam a double room?"

Shiro flushed a dark color. "Double rooms only have one bed."

Keith just arched a brow. "Ah."

"I'm just gonna-" Shiro began, motioning towards the door. "Goodnight, I guess?"

"Yeah," Keith smiled, "-goodnight."

* * *

Keith's smile dropped as soon as Shiro left the room. Once he was sure he was gone, he pulled out the transponder from his belt pouch, turning it over in his hands.

He knew he needed to contact Ulaz like he'd promised, but the situation was a lot more complicated now. At first, he thought he'd just find the blue lion and report it's location to him, but things had gone way past that. Now not only had he found the blue lion, but he'd also located the four he hadn't even known existed when Ulaz had sent him back to Earth- and what's more, he was a _paladin_.

Heaving a sigh, Keith tucked away the transponder. Ulaz could wait at least another day, until he decided what to do. He didn't want to sneak around behind Allura's back, but the way that she spoke about the Galra... he might have to.

Not that she didn't have every right to. Hell, he wasn't sure if he fully trusted Ulaz himself.

He was already lying to the princess and to everyone else anyways, if only by omission. He was part Galra, a fact which was bound to come out at some point. Those aliens that they had rescued today doubtlessly knew the truth, and he wouldn't be surprised if Sendak had known too. There was never any shortage of commanders coming to see his matches. He had a reputation.

And just like his reputation on Earth, it was a bad one.

Running a hand through his hair, Keith heaved a sigh. That wasn't even the worst part of all this.

No, the worst part was the fact that he was back in a war again. It was bad enough when he was just a prisoner, but it just seemed like his destiny to never be away from war for long. And while this time he was undeniably on the right side of it, it didn't change the fact that it was still war.

Even worse, this time he'd dragged _children _into it- one of whom was only _fourteen_. As far as he was concerned, that made him the absolute _worst_.

Heaving a sigh, Keith got to his feet. He might as well sleep while he still could, though he somehow doubted he would. Maybe come morning, he'd be able to make a decision.

Unless he wanted the decision made for him, he would have to.


	6. aquarius, of transition

Cannot tell you how long I've been working on this update, but it's finally done! I toyed around with a lot of of different ideas for this phase of the story, but eventually I decided to just (mostly) stick with Shiro's POV throughout the entire thing. This one ended up pretty long! But I'm glad to have it off my plate as much as I enjoyed writing parts of it.

Next up, _crimson_!

* * *

**aquarius, of transition**

* * *

The sound of alarm was _not _a pleasant way to wake up.

He could have sworn that his heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he was jostled awake by the sound. Throwing off his covers, Shiro leapt to his feet, already rushing towards the bridge even before Allura's voice joined the alarms.

By the time he actually _reached _said bridge... well, he'd sort of realized that this probably _wasn't _an actual emergency.

He was the first to arrive, with Adam hot on his heels. A weary Pidge trailed in behind him, still in his day clothes, followed shortly by Hunk, pajama-clad and only half-awake despite all the noise. Allura and Coran were already on the bridge, the latter putting on a melodramatic one-man production in which the Galra had cut off Allura's head- which was apparently talking to him.

Allura did not look amused.

But then, she didn't exactly look amused with _them _either.

Narrowing her eyes, she scanned the bridge, visibly not finding what- or _who_\- she wanted to see. "Only three of you?"

Exchanging an uncertain glance with Adam, Shiro frowned. "I'm pretty sure there's _four _of us here, your highness."

Allura opened her mouth only to shut it, heaving a sigh. "Though it is good to see Adam is responsive as well, I was hoping to get more of a response from the actual _paladins_."

She paused, glancing slightly in Adam's direction. "No offense."

"None taken." Adam shrugged it off. "So I'm guessing this was just a drill?"

"Precisely." Allura said. "One that you all failed."

Pidge groaned, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. "We're here, aren't we?"

"Yes, but none of you are wearing your armor," Allura stated. "-and neither you nor Hunk thought to bring your bayards. And where are Keith and Lance?"

"Figured it was a drill," almost as if on cue, the doors to the bridge opened to admit Keith, "-so I just decided to take my time."

Glancing behind him, Shiro smiled at the older man. He caught his gaze, the edge of his lips twitching slightly upwards. His day clothes looked rumpled, almost like he'd slept in them- or just didn't sleep, which he was starting to suspect was the case with Pidge. Honestly, he could have slept better himself- he'd tossed and turned in the bed the princess had provided him with, too full of uncertainties to snatch more than a few hours of solid rest.

He'd never led _anything _before.

Narrowing her eyes, Allura inclined her head so that she could stare straight into Keith's. "And what made you so sure it was a drill?"

Arching a brow, Keith's gaze flickered in Coran's direction, before flicking wordlessly back towards Allura.

"...alright, fair point." Allura admitted. "But how did you know _before _that?"

Keith just shrugged. "Used to have a commander that loved pulling surprise drills. Doesn't take long to get a feel for them."

Coran perked up at that. "You have previous experience with the military, then?"

Yawning, Keith tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, coming to stand next to him and Adam. "Something like that. Anyways, where's the other kid?"

"You mean Lance?" Hunk asked.

"Right. Him." Keith said, before glancing at Hunk with a slight frown. "...and your name was?"

"It's Hunk." Hunk said flatly, sounding a lot more confident around him than he had yesterday. Then again, that _could _just be due to the fact that he probably wasn't completely awake yet. "Hunk Garrett? We literally met yesterday- at least, I think it was yesterday. Time in space is _weird_."

"Try being held for nearly a year in a ship with no day and night cycle." Keith muttered underneath his breath.

Shiro frowned, his gaze darting up towards Keith. They hadn't really had time to talk about what he'd gone through while he'd been a prisoner of the Galra yet.

Something told him that Keith had no intention to.

It was frustrating, knowing that. It wasn't like he didn't understand- to Keith, he was nothing more than a kid, and he wasn't exactly the type to dump all his problems on someone a good seven years younger. Or _anyone_, for that matter.

But that didn't mean it felt _fair_\- especially when Keith had always made time to listen to _his _problems. He just wished he could pay back the favor.

As if sensing his thoughts, Adam gave his hand a squeeze. He gave his boyfriend a faint smile, entwining his fingers with his. If he had to be stuck this far out in space with little hope of getting home, he was glad that Adam was here with him.

"Regardless," Allura cut in, "-we must always be ready to-"

The doors to the bridge opened a second time, prompting Allura to snap her mouth shut and glare at Lance. The blue paladin appeared remarkably relaxed given the alarms, which meant he was either the world's deepest sleeper, or he'd been wearing headphones.

(He was going to vote for the headphones. Those alarms had been _loud_.)

"So _this _is where you all are." Lance yawned, displaying a remarkable lack of ability to read the room. "When's breakfast? Not to sound like Hunk, but I'm _starving_."

Allura heaved yet another sigh, this one more long suffering than the last. Part of him actually felt kind of _bad _for her. She'd probably been expecting a little bit more from the new paladins of Voltron. It was pretty clear that they were going to have their work cut out for them if they hoped to even have a _chance _of defeating Zarkon.

_He _had his work cut out for him.

Since _apparently_, he was Voltron's _leader_.

He... still didn't quite know what to make of that fact. If anything, he was convinced that _Keith _would be more suited to the role than him- but apparently the choice wasn't theirs. It wasn't even _Allura's_.

It was the lions'.

Keith agreed with their choice, but he wasn't so sure _he _did. Still, if he was going to be the leader, then he guessed he needed to start acting like it.

"Allura has a point," Shiro said, hoping he sounded authoritative enough, "-we need to be ready at a moment's notice to fight the Galra."

He must have said something right, because Allura cast a favorable look in his direction, before turning back towards the others. "That's only one of the many things you'll need. If we are going to have a hope of defeating Zarkon, then the five of you will need to be able to form Voltron at any time."

"That sounds an _awful lot_ like you think we need practice." Hunk observed. "Which... yeah, okay. I guess we kind of do. I'm still not sure how we formed Voltron the _first _time."

"Aw man," Lance moaned, "-I thought we wouldn't have to deal with morning practice now that we're not at the Garrison anymore."

"With _this _guy in charge?" Adam asked, nudging Shiro in the shoulder. "No chance."

"Don't worry," Shiro said, glancing in Allura's direction, "-I'm sure we can get some breakfast first."

"Of course." Allura said. "Coran can show you all to the kitchen."

"Plenty of food goo for everyone!" Coran chirped.

"Ugh, the food goo _again_?" Hunk asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'll eat it, but don't you guys have like... any _actual _food?"

"I am certain we do," Allura agreed, "-but that's only if your species has the ability to digest food that's ten thousand years old."

"You know what?" Hunk said. "I think I'm just fine sticking with the food goo."

"But what about the prisoners we rescued?" Pidge asked. "I wanted to talk to them."

"Negative, number six." Coran said firmly. "They'll need to stay in the cryo-replenishers until at least tomorrow."

"...number six?" Keith asked, arching a brow.

"I've got you all ranked by height, you see!" Coran declared, making a show of measuring Pidge with his hands. "Pidge is the shortest, so they're number six!"

"Wait," Lance counted down on his fingers, his face scrunching in displeasure once he'd done the math, "-doesn't that make me like number five or something?"

"It does indeed!" Coran chirped, completely oblivious to the fact that Lance's protest was well... a _protest_. "Starting with Keith, the six of you are-"

Allura cleared her throat. "Coran."

"Oh, right." Coran said, cutting short what felt as if it would be a lengthy ramble. "The answer is still no, I'm afraid, number six."

Pidge frowned, but didn't push the issue. He shot him a sympathetic look. He wasn't quite sure what his deal was with the Holts, but he had to have _some _connection if he was this anxious about the prisoners. He just hoped that for his sake, they'd have some good information.

"Alright team," Shiro said, trying to channel his inner leader, "-after breakfast, we'll get to training. Our goal is to be able to form Voltron by the end of the day."

Allura gave a curt nod of approval, apparently satisfied. After ten thousand years in cryosleep, she was probably eager to get out there and start fighting back against the Empire that had destroyed her home.

"Actually," Keith cut in, "-I think there's something Shiro needs to discuss with Coran first."

Blinking, Shiro glanced up at him in confusion, for a second unsure what he was talking about. What did he need to-?

Then he caught Keith's eye, and felt his right arm twitch in response.

Right. _That_.

"With Coran?" Allura frowned, exchanging a glance with the mustached alien, who simply shrugged, unbothered by the sudden request. "Of course. But might I inquire as to why?"

"It's personal." Keith said curtly- before hastily adding, "-no offense."

Allura's frown only deepened, and for a second, he thought she'd press the issue. But instead she schooled her features into a neutral expression, merely inclining her head. He couldn't say he wasn't grateful for it. His condition had been something he'd kept secret back at the Garrison. Outside of the base's medical personnel and his instructors, no one knew about it- with the exception of Keith and Adam, of course. Suffice to say, he wasn't exactly in a rush to let the whole world know about it.

Especially not the people he was supposed to _lead_.

"I understand," she said. "In that case, I can guide everyone to the kitchen myself while you speak with Coran."

"Thanks," Keith said, "-shouldn't take long."

Walking past them, Allura motioned for everyone else to follow her. For the most part they did, only Pidge pausing at the door to glance back towards Adam with an uncertain frown.

"Aren't you coming?"

Adam gave Pidge a faint smile, even as he moved to stand closer to Shiro. "I'll catch up."

Pidge hesitated for a second longer, before shrugging. "Suit yourself."

Shiro gave him a grateful smile. Talking about his disease hadn't gotten any easier since his initial diagnosis, so he was grateful to have him by his side. Keith too, of course- even if he _was _a little miffed he'd decided to push the subject.

That said, he saw his point. Things were fine for now, but there was no telling when he might have his next flare-up. Even if they didn't have a way to help him, Allura and Coran deserved to know just who it was they were putting their faith in. He knew by that logic, he should probably also tell the rest of the team, but...

...well, one step at a time.

Drawing in a breath, Shiro instinctively reached out a hand. Without even having to ask, Adam took it, entwining his fingers with his own, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

"The truth is-"

* * *

"Well, I can't say that I've ever heard of anything like this before-"

Shiro's face fell, any hope he might have held slipping away even as Coran spoke.

"-_but_," Coran continued, "-that doesn't mean that we can't work together to find a solution."

Looking up at Coran, Shiro felt Adam squeeze his hand. "Do you really think you can help?"

"Well I don't see why not." Coran said, tugging on one end of his mustache. "I might not know too much about you humans, but the Castle does have an extensive medical library. Why, I'd be more surprised if we _couldn't _find some way to help."

Shiro felt a rush of relief wash over him. He hadn't said anything definite, and yet his words somehow still managed to inspire more confidence than anything his specialist back on Earth had ever told him.

"See?" Keith nudged his shoulder. "What did I tell you?"

Rolling his eyes, Shiro shot him a glare. Keith just quirked a brow in response, silently calling his bluff. Huffing, Shiro cracked a smile, before glancing towards Adam, his boyfriend's expression mirroring his own.

Maybe he really _did _have a chance.

"Ideally I'd like to put you in one of the pods to do a full scan, but they're a bit occupied at the moment." Coran said, thoughtfully twirling one end of his mustache. "So we'll just have to wait a bit on that part."

At the mention of the pods, Keith's eyes briefly narrowed. Catching it, Shiro frowned, wondering just what the story there was. He'd heard from Pidge that the prisoners had called him _Champion_, but thus far, he'd refused to elaborate on it.

"I think I can wait a day or two." Shiro said. "Thanks, Coran."

"No need to thank me." Coran said. "It's my job to make sure you paladins are in top shape. And your partners, of course."

He didn't miss the significant look he shot in Adam's direction. They both flushed, each suddenly finding the Castle's floor incredibly interesting- though neither of them let go of each others hands. He didn't even dare look up at Keith, who he already knew from experience was probably just making that same cheeky smirk he did whenever someone teased them.

"Good to know." Adam said, coughing into his hand.

"If that's all," Keith said, "-we should probably join the others."

Glancing towards Keith, Shiro frowned. Speaking of things that should probably be talked about...

"Actually," Shiro blurted out before he could stop himself, "-I think Keith needs someone to take a look at his left leg."

Keith flinched, glaring in his direction. It might have worked, if he hadn't gotten indifferent to it over the years. Instead he just arched his brows- as far as he saw it, turnabout was fair play. It was only fair he returned the favor.

"Really?" Coran blinked, glancing down at the aforementioned appendage. "I hadn't noticed anything wrong with it. Did it get banged up when you went to retrieve the red lion?"

"Something like that." Keith lied, one hand darting towards his left knee. "It's nothing."

"You've been messing with your leg ever since you crash landed." Shiro said. "It's not nothing."

Locking eyes with him, Keith's lips twisted into a frown. But rather than look away, Shiro held his gaze. He wasn't going to back down here- not when he _knew _something was wrong with his leg.

Finally breaking eye contact, Keith let out a long sigh. "It's not an injury."

"It's obviously _something_." Adam said. "You mess with it the same way Takashi messes with his wrist."

Keith stayed silent for a second longer, before heaving another sigh. Reaching for his pant leg, he pulled it up, revealing dull metal where human flesh should be. There was a nasty scar where the prosthetic met his human flesh, and he shuddered, wondering just what had happened to cause him to lose it in the first place.

"What," Shiro stumbled over the word, "-what _happened_?"

"I lost it while I was in the arena." Yanking his pant leg down, Keith pointedly refused to look at them, masking his expression by way of his long hair. "It got replaced. That's all."

He felt Adam's grip on his hand tighten. He looked just as stricken as Shiro felt. He should have known from the obvious claw marks on his cheek that Keith hadn't come out of the arena unscathed, but he hadn't...

...he hadn't considered just how _bad _it could be.

Suddenly he understood a little better why he might not want to talk about it.

"No shame in that, Number One." Coran hummed, toying with one end of his mustache. "Even before the Galra started to use prisoners in their gladiator matches, they were notoriously tough. I can't imagine how much worse they've gotten since they started forcing people to fight in them instead. You're lucky to have survived."

"Yeah," Keith said, his tone curt, "-thanks."

An uncomfortable silence swept over them. Exchanging a look with Adam, he just shook his head. Exhaling, Shiro looked towards Keith, who was still pointedly avoiding eye contact.

"In that case," he said, "-we probably should join the others. I don't want to make the princess wait too long."

"No, can't advise that." Coran said. "She can be a touch impatient at times."

"Sounds like you guys will have a fun time training today." Adam teased. "Almost makes me glad I'm _not _a paladin. Nothing but free time for me."

It was a blatant attempt to lighten the mood- one that seemed to work. Finally looking up, Keith glanced in Adam's direction, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Now hold on there just a tick, Number Three." Coran interjected. "I could use an extra pair of hands to help repair the Castle. I'm not quite as youthful as I used to be, I'm afraid. Might need your help in getting to some of the harder to reach places."

Shiro snorted, barely able to cover his mouth in time. Adam shot him a glare, making a show of removing his hand from his, folding his arms in front of him.

That just made him laugh _more_.

"Sure," Adam said, visibly pretending to pout, "-just yak it up."

Someone snorted, but it wasn't him this time. Looking up, he met Keith's eyes. The edge of his lips twitched upwards in a faint smile, before he shook his head.

"Sounds like we _all _have a busy day ahead of us, then." Keith said, giving Adam a pointed look. "Come on. Let's see if that food goo is half as bad as Hunk makes it sound."

Shiro felt his shoulders relax slightly. He wanted Keith to talk to him, but not at the expense of upsetting him. That wouldn't be helping. That would just be self-satisfaction.

_Patience_, he reminded himself.

He had to have patience.

* * *

...okay, so maybe patience wasn't helping that much today.

Not with Keith! The issue wasn't Keith right now.

No, the issue was that in order to... _encourage _them to form Voltron, the princess had decided it would be a good idea to try and recreate the stress of yesterday's battle. It sounded like a good idea on paper- it was definitely true that they'd only been able to form Voltron yesterday because they'd all tapped into the same survival instinct. But in _actuality_...

...well, that just meant Allura using the Castle's defenses to _fire on them_.

"Oh _forget this_," he heard Lance shout over the coms, "-I'm heading back to the Castle!"

Famous last words, Shiro thought to himself, watching as the blue lion literally _bounced off_ the Castle's particle barrier. Guess that thing wouldn't even let the lions through when it was up. It would be interesting to note- if he wasn't currently weaving through a veritable shower of laser beams, that was.

He was never more thankful for all those hours he'd spent in the simulator, running drill after drill. That said, this was only reinforcing what had been proven to him yesterday- that being in a simulator was _nothing _like dealing with the real thing. It didn't help that the black lion's controls were completely different than what he was used to, even if the lion itself seemed to somehow be guiding him.

It was... _strange_, being able to feel the lion. It felt so _alien_, but at the same time, it almost felt as if it had always been a part of him. He couldn't explain it, but it did at least leave him feeling a little more confident in himself.

The leadership part he still wasn't so sure of. But flying the black lion? Maybe he really _could _do that.

You know. If the Castle's lasers didn't kill him first.

At least he wasn't the only one struggling. In fact, he was pretty sure the only person who was actually doing well was _Keith_. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he'd been flying the red lion for _years_, not two days. But then, considering his literal job description was that of a _test pilot_, the fact that he was getting the hang of this faster than any of them didn't really surprise him. The only real difference this time was the fact that he was flying an _alien _spacecraft, not just experimental prototypes.

He almost wished he had the chance to just watch, but considering the lasers... yeah, bad idea.

"Patience yields focus," he mumbled underneath his breath. In the back of his head, he swore he could hear the black lion rumble in something close to approval.

He was so focused, in fact, that he almost didn't notice when the shooting _stopped_. By the time he finally did, everyone else had already left- except for Keith, who'd apparently decided to wait for him.

"Where's-?"

"They went back inside as soon as the particle barrier went back down." Keith replied, and Shiro could swear that there was a touch of amusement in his voice. "Guess they weren't big fans of Allura's training style."

Shiro huffed. "Still think she's better than the Admiral?"

"You only say that because you haven't been subjected to one of her insane tests before." Keith pointed out. "Although in hindsight, I'm starting to suspect that she designed them to be as difficult as possible to discourage me from joining the Kerberos mission."

Shiro laughed. "That sounds like the Admiral."

"Wow," Keith hummed in amusement, "-should the Galaxy Garrison's Golden Boy really be saying that?"

"It's not like she's going to hear." Shiro said. "I don't think the Garrison has drones this far out in space."

"A solid point." Keith admitted. "So, should we head back? Not much point in bonding as a team if half the team isn't even _here_."

Shiro grimaced. Things hadn't exactly been going well, even _before _Allura had started firing on them. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if it was because of _him_. Maybe if he just had more confidence in himself as their leader, then...

He shook the thought off. He couldn't let himself think that way. Keith had been right yesterday- the lions didn't work like that. If the black lion had chosen him, then there _had _to be a reason for it. He was just going to have to put his faith into that.

Somehow, that was an easier thing to believe while he was in his lion.

"Yeah," he agreed, "-we probably should."

"Let's just hope we find them before Allura does." Keith said. "Something tells me that she won't be that keen on finding them skipping training."

...yeah. He got the feeling Keith was on to something there.

* * *

Turned out, he was.

Not only did Allura find the rest of the paladins first- all three of them had made a beeline for the lounge- but she _definitely _wasn't happy to hear that they'd left training before forming Voltron. Apparently the only reason the shooting had stopped was because Coran needed to test something, which she'd sounded pretty peeved about too.

That was how they all found themselves on the Castle's training deck, arranged in a loose circle. He hadn't even known that the Castle _had _a training deck, but after spending the past hour or so dodging laser fire, it sounded like a nice change of pace.

Or it would have, if the first exercise hadn't _also _involved laser fire.

"Well," Shiro said, grateful he'd been wearing a helmet when he'd been unceremoniously dropped into a pit under the training deck floor, "-that didn't go well."

"You could say that again." Pidge said, glaring at Hunk. He'd been the first to get hit, the newly minted yellow paladin dodging out of the way of the drone's fire without consideration of the person behind him- in this case, Pidge.

"Sorry," Hunk held up a hand, "-that was my bad. I promise to do better next time."

"Hey, Hunk is one thing." Lance narrowed his eyes, glancing towards Keith. "What I don't get is how you managed to fight in actual _wars_, and you _still _failed the drill."

Keith just arched a brow. "Weren't you the one who didn't block that last shot?"

Lance flinched, clearly not as ready to be called out on his own failure as he was to do so with others. "I just thought an _ex-mercenary_ would be better at this."

Save for a quick roll of his eyes, Keith otherwise brushed the remark aside. "We didn't exactly work in this kind of team."

Inwardly, Shiro winced. He knew Keith didn't exactly have the best of reputations due to his past, but he'd been hoping it wouldn't be a problem.

Maybe he'd been too optimistic.

"Well, we're going to have to figure it out if we don't want to embarrass ourselves like that again." Pidge pointed out.

"Hey, look on the bright side." Hunk said. "At least your girlfriend wasn't here to see you fall through a hole."

Shiro winced, externally this time, abruptly recalling that Adam was in the observation tower with Coran. Something told him he'd be hearing more than his fair share of jokes about the indignant manner in which he'd fallen through said hole soon enough.

As if Adam's jokes weren't already bad on their own.

"Wait," Keith said, looking in Pidge's direction in surprise, "-girlfriend?"

"Well, you see," Hunk began with a grin, "-Pidge here-"

"It's nothing." Pidge hastily cut him off. "Hunk just found a photo of mine while snooping through my things _without permission_ and got the wrong idea."

Shiro frowned, glancing in Hunk's direction, who only gave a sheepish shrug in his defense. Heaving a sigh, Shiro rose to his feet, attempting to square his shoulders and act like the leader he knew he was supposed to be... even if he felt a lot less like it after essentially getting dropped on his ass.

"Let's just head back up to the training deck for now." Shiro said. "I'm sure we'll do better at the next exercise."

His fellow paladins exchanged an uncertain glance.

* * *

Well... he hadn't been _entirely _wrong. The next exercise had gone better than the last one.

Sort of.

_He'd _done well, at least. But then, he'd been partnered with Pidge, someone he already had experience working with. He'd been able to guide him through the invisible maze exercise with only a handful of hiccups, and Pidge had done pretty well himself once it was his turn on the mic.

As for _everyone else_...

...well, the less said about Lance and Keith's attempts, the better. They'd been paired together, which had very quickly turned into an exercise in futility as Lance only half-listened to Keith's instructions, and Keith got more and more frustrated as Lance purposefully misdirected him out of a misplaced sense of revenge for all the electric shocks he'd endured during his turn. Keith apparently went so far as to switch off his coms before the end of his maze run, opting instead to let pure instinct guide him.

(He'd done surprisingly well after that.)

Hunk, the odd one out, had also worked with Pidge. That had gone... well, it quickly became fairly obvious that Pidge still wasn't happy about having his privacy invaded. They hadn't done as badly as Lance and Keith, but there'd definitely been more electric shocks than was entirely necessary.

Guess interpersonal relationships were just _another _thing he was going to have to work on.

Sighing, Shiro couldn't help but wonder if the last black paladin ever had this much trouble.

* * *

It was official.

Aliens were _crazy_.

They were back in their lions again, only this time, the objective _wasn't _to form Voltron. He'd known that from the start, but Coran hadn't exactly explained much before telling them all to put their lions into a nose dive.

Then his vision had gone dark.

He'd momentarily panicked, fearful that it's cause was some previously unknown symptom of his condition triggered by the events of the past two days. Only once Coran had explained the exercise did he calm down, though his heart was still hammering in his chest. Even worse, his panic had cost him both valuable time _and _focus, things that for this exercise, were extremely important.

"_You must learn to see through your lion's eyes,_" Coran had told them, "-_feel what the lion feels._"

Easier said than done. Right now all he could think about was how long he had until he hit the ground.

Below them was a deep ravine, but he didn't know how far away it was from his current position, or even really what speed he was going at. For all he knew, he might have angled his lion _away _from the ravine, and towards the desert, shortening the amount of time he had before he potentially crashed.

...which from the sound of it, was _exactly _what Lance had done.

And if Lance had already hit the ground, then how close was _he_?

Tightening his grip on the controls, Shiro drew in a deep breath. Hunk had already bowed out of the exercise in the first few seconds, and he wasn't sure about Pidge and Keith- though somehow he doubted that the latter could _ever _fail, at least, not when it came to piloting. He'd never been much of one to let fear get the better of him, and right now, that was an example Shiro desperately wanted to follow.

The whole universe was counting on them- on _him_\- to get this right. He _had _to. And how hard could it be? All he really had to do was bond with his lion.

And see through its eyes, whatever _that _meant.

Exhaling, he forced himself to focus, drowning everything else out. He might not be quite sure what that meant, but he _could _feel the black lion. It was hard _not _to, when it had such a commanding presence. Usually it lingered in the back of his mind, distant but unmistakable, but the moment he started focusing on its presence, it became almost impossible to ignore.

In a way, it was almost intimidating. The black lion _loomed_, towering over him both in his mind, and in reality. But he was its _paladin_\- and being the black lion's paladin made _him _the leader.

And if even _he _couldn't handle his lion, then how could they _ever _possibly form Voltron?

He could do this. He would do this. Concentrating, he narrowed his focus until the black lion was the only thing on his mind. It rumbled in approval, prompting him to open his eyes-

-and _see_-

...the ground, right as he was about to crash into it.

Groaning, Shiro held his head. Well, if nothing else, at least he knew for sure that his helmet was effective now. Leaning back in his chair, he let his grip on the controls grow lax, heaving a sigh. His vision had gone back to black, whatever connection he'd momentarily grasped at severed- at least for the time being.

He could still feel the black lion, but it was fainter now. Maybe if he'd made the connection a few seconds sooner...

...well, he probably still would have crashed. Let's be realistic.

Next time, though? Next time, he'd do better.

(The black lion rumbled in approval once more.)

* * *

"So how'd you do?"

Shiro jumped, pivoting on his heel to face a rather amused Keith. He was leaning against the wall outside of the black lion's hangar, his arms crossed in front of him. The edge of his lip quirked further upwards as their eyes met, and he fought the urge to groan. For someone who was supposed to be an adult, Keith sure had something of a childish streak.

(He wondered if the rest of the paladins would even _believe _that.)

"Trying to give your leader a heart attack?" Shiro asked.

"Trying to keep him on his toes." Keith blithely replied. "So? How'd it go?"

"Could have been better." Shiro admitted. "I think I was close to a breakthrough, but well... turns out, the ground was faster."

Keith chuckled. It was a faint, low sound, one that he'd missed after he'd left for Kerberos, and then even more after the mission's failure had been announced. At some point he'd come to think of Keith as less of a friend, and more of an older brother- though he'd never actually admitted as much to his face. It would only make things awkward if Keith didn't feel the same way.

"You'll be faster next time." Keith reassured him, in that awkward _am I doing this right_ tone that he'd missed just as much as his laugh.

"Hope so." Shiro said. "If I'm going to lead this team, I have to know what I'm doing."

"You'll get the hang of it." Keith assured him, sounding far more resolute this time.

Shiro frowned, skeptical. "How can you be so sure?"

Keith shrugged. "Let's just call it instinct."

Shiro hummed, still not entirely convinced. He was glad that at least _someone _thought he had leadership potential, even if he wasn't that convinced himself.

"Thanks." Shiro said. "So... how did you do?"

Keith just shrugged again. "Fine, I guess."

Shiro arched a brow, staring at Keith suspiciously. That sounded like a vague answer if he'd ever heard one, which definitely meant that he was hiding something- or at least not telling the whole truth. "_Just _fine?"

"Well," Keith grinned, "-I didn't _crash_, for one thing."

His answer was no less vague, but it wasn't hard to extrapolate what he meant by that. Keith was never much one to outright _boast_\- he usually didn't need to. His actions did enough speaking.

(Unless Lieutenant Griffin was around, in which case he wouldn't hesitate to rub things in his face. It was a favor the lieutenant returned.)

"Huh," Shiro returned his grin, "-guess you aren't _that _much of an old timer yet."

"Wow," Keith's grin only grew in response, "-so much for respecting your elders."

"What can I say?" Shiro shrugged. "I learned from the best."

"Huh," Keith frowned, tilting his head, "-maybe Admiral Sanda was right. Maybe I _am _a bad influence."

"What," Shiro said, "-you're just realizing this _now_?"

"Always have been a slow learner." Keith shrugged, pushing himself off the wall. "Come on. Everyone else is gathering back on the training deck. We should probably hurry up if we don't want to face the princess' wrath."

"Yeah, that's... probably a good idea." Shiro agreed.

Keith smiled, pausing to pat his helmeted head before he walked past him. Shiro frowned slightly, even as he fell into step behind him. His gaze kept dropping down to his left leg without him meaning for it to, recalling the nasty scar where it would have ended in a stump at his knee if not for the alien prosthetic. He didn't carry it any different than he did his right, but now that he'd seen it, he couldn't get the image of it out of his head.

"...does it hurt?"

Keith didn't even miss a step, though his fingers twitched, and Shiro was certain he'd heard his breath briefly hitch in his throat.

"No," he said, "-it's fine."

For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to believe that.

* * *

"I'm _done _with this!"

In the otherwise quiet room, the clatter of Pidge's headpiece as it hit the floor was almost deafening. It served to sever the last of their lingering connection to one another, a jarring feeling that took him several seconds to shake off, before a bubble of frustration took its place, one that was entirely his own.

Early hiccups aside, the mind-melding exercise had actually been going so _well_. They'd even nearly managed to form Voltron, albeit mentally, before Pidge had completely lost focus.

And now he was just _giving up_?

"Pidge-"

"I just," Pidge ran a hand through his hair, briefly grasping at his roots in clear frustration, "-I just don't like everyone grubbing around in my head, that's all. It doesn't _feel _right."

Shiro deflated, the bubble of frustration popping. Pidge had a point- it might be the first exercise that was actually going _well_, but he hadn't actually been wildly enthusiastic about it either at first. The prospect of being linked mentally had made him... understandably nervous, given what he still hadn't told the rest of the paladins. The only one who actually knew about his condition was Keith, and while he knew he had to tell the others eventually, this wasn't exactly the way he wanted them to find out.

And sure, those fears hadn't come to fruition, but still... he guessed he could see where Pidge was coming from. It _was _a pretty invasive exercise.

"Maybe we should take a break." Shiro suggested. "We've all been working pretty hard."

That sounded leader-like enough, Shiro hoped.

Apparently it did, because everyone rapidly agreed. Only Keith stayed silent, though he couldn't help but notice he'd been the first one after Pidge to take his headpiece off. Frowning, Shiro removed his own, briefly studying it before setting it aside. He wasn't quite sure how it worked, but from the second he'd put it on he'd been able to _feel _the rest of the paladins, just like he was able to feel the black lion.

It wasn't anything _concrete_\- mostly just vague impressions. But just like he could with his lion, he suspected that if he really focused, he could probably get a lot more than just that. And for someone as naturally secretive and withdrawn as Keith...

...well, he could sort of understand why he wouldn't like that.

Of course, he could have used the mind meld to get some answers, he realized in retrospect. But that seemed... _unfair_, almost- not to mention _hypocritical_. He couldn't exactly do to Keith what he didn't want the others doing to him. What kind of leader would he be if he did things like _that_?

"Okay, then it's agreed." Shiro said. "We're taking a break. Coran?"

"Fine by me." Coran said. "Shiro's right. You all have been working fairly hard. Give me a tick and I can even bring you down some refreshments!"

"Thanks, Coran," Shiro smiled, "-that'd be great."

"I hope it's not more food goo." Lance groaned, placing a hand on his stomach. "Eating that stuff has given me a whole new appreciation for Meatloaf Mondays."

Shiro chuckled, watching as Pidge out of the corner of his eye as Pidge sat back down. He still looked pretty grumpy, and was very pointedly _not _looking at Hunk. Heaving a slight sigh, he caught the yellow paladin's eye. Hunk blinked, but when he glanced in Pidge's direction, he seemed to get the message.

"I guess I should probably apologize for snooping around in your head hole like that, huh?" Hunk asked, sounding sheepish.

"Probably." Pidge said curtly.

"Yeah..." Hunk trailed off, twiddling his thumbs, "-my bad. I just wanted to maybe find out your girlfriend's name. She's cute, by the way. I mean, she's not _my _type but just- just thought I'd put that out there."

Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Keith snort.

"...thanks," Pidge sounded strangely reluctant, before adding, "-but seriously, she's _not _my girlfriend."

"Really?" Hunk asked. "So who is she? I mean, she must be pretty important if you carry a picture of her around with you."

Pidge arched a brow. "I thought we just got done agreeing that you were wrong to pry."

"Okay, point taken." Hunk said, holding up his hands. "Can't blame a guy for being curious though, right?"

Judging from the look on Pidge's face, Shiro was going to guess that the answer to that was _yes_. Faintly chuckling, he caught Keith's eye just in time to watch him cover his mouth, as if he were attempting to suppress a laugh. Realizing that he was being watched, he deliberately coughed into his hand, pointedly looking away.

That settled it. There was _definitely _something going on between Pidge and Keith, some kind of shared secret. And if he didn't miss his guess, whatever that secret was, it involved the girl in Pidge's photograph. But if she wasn't his girlfriend...

...actually, come to think of it, she seemed kind of _familiar_. But where...?

"Water?"

Shiro flinched, his heart momentarily leaping out of his chest before he realized it was just Adam. His boyfriend was watching him with an amused expression, some kind of water pouch held in his outstretched hand. He hastily accepted it, removing the straw and jabbing it into the pouch, taking a long, refreshing drink.

He'd needed that more than he'd thought.

"Thanks." Shiro smiled up at Adam. "How's working with Coran?"

"I'm either learning a lot about Altean culture, or Coran is messing with me." Adam said, crouching next to him. "One of the two."

Shiro snorted. "He does seem a little... _eccentric_."

"You don't know the half of it." Adam said, before his lips twitched into a grin best described as _impish_. "But hey. At least I'm not being sucked ass first through a hole."

Shiro was just glad he hadn't been drinking any water at the moment, otherwise he would have surely choked. His cheeks were flushed as he let out a groan, hanging his head.

"So you saw that, huh?"

He'd kind of assumed as much, but it was another thing to actually _hear _it.

"Pretty sure it was recorded, too. It's probably already in the Castle's archives." Adam's grin didn't fade. "Something tells me I'll get _a lot_ of replay value out of that."

"Oh shut up." Shiro glared at him, but there wasn't any real fire behind it and it quickly gave way to a grin of his own. "You know I still have that video of you walking into that pole on my phone, right? Nothing's stopping me from showing it to everyone here."

"Is that a _threat_, Shirogane?" Adam asked.

"Do you want to _make it_ one, Warner?" Shiro challenged.

Adam held his gaze for a long second, before breaking eye contact with a laugh. "You have to admit, it was pretty funny."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be in a few days." Shiro agreed. "Right now the only thing I'm sure of is that armor or not, my ass is going to be sore tomorrow."

"Yeah," the edge of Adam's lip twitched upwards, "-that's what they all say."

Opening his mouth to respond, Shiro snapped it shut, his cheeks already heating up. "...I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"_Yup_."

Shiro just huffed, returning his attention to his water pouch. Taking a long drink, he wondered what Coran had in store for them next. He hoped for their sakes that he wouldn't have them try the mind melding exercise again- it might go a little better now that Hunk had promised he wouldn't root around in Pidge's head, but something told him that he probably wouldn't be up for it just yet- especially not when he was pretty confident that his last mistake had been because of Pidge himself.

Hunk was right about one thing. Whoever the girl in the purple dress was, she had to be important to Pidge if he was carrying around her photograph. Maybe she wasn't his _girlfriend_, but...

...purple dress?

Shiro frowned, trying to recall why that stood out to him so much. Hadn't someone been dressed like that at the Kerberos launch? Come to think of it, there'd been a shuttle in the background...

Oh. _Oh_.

Oh wow, that made so much more sense. In hindsight, he wondered how he could have ever possibly _missed _it. But then again, he'd never exactly spoken to Commander Holt's daughter before- just his son, the few times he'd run into him at the Garrison. The last he'd heard of the Commander's daughter, she'd been removed from Garrison property by force. Something about hacking into classified data feeds.

Pidge Gunderson transferred in not long after that.

He'd just... keep that to himself for now.

(No wonder Keith was laughing.)

* * *

"What are you doing lying around? You're supposed to be training!"

Allura's voice cracked like a whip through the training deck, instantly snapping his attention towards the princess. If he thought she'd looked angry before, she looked properly irate now. Exchanging a glance with Adam, he hastily jerked to his feet, standing at full attention. He stopped just short of giving her a proper salute, freezing mid-gesture before thinking better of it.

He couldn't help but notice that he wasn't the only one. Both Lance and Hunk had snapped to attention, the latter actually going through with the salute before apparently realizing he wasn't at the Garrison and dropping it awkwardly. Pidge's back was now ramrod straight, and Adam was much the same. The only one who remained largely unfazed was Keith, which wasn't necessarily much of a surprise. The only time he'd seen him stand at attention seriously was for the Kerberos launch.

He was, however, paying a lot more attention.

"Just taking a short water break, that's all." Shiro explained. "I'm not sure how it works for Alteans, but hydrated humans typically produce better results than dehydrated ones."

Allura frowned. For a second, he thought she might snap at him, but she instead turned on her heel, facing Coran. "Have they faced the Gladiator yet?"

"Not just yet." Coran said. "I've been building them up to it."

"The Gladiator?" Pidge asked, shifting her posture to be slightly more relaxed, if no less wary. "What's that?"

"It's a special type of training drone, not that much different from those sentries that you encountered on Sendak's ship." Coran replied. "In fact, my grandfather was the one who designed the Castles'-"

Allura cleared her throat, cutting short what was bound to be a long, rambling explanation. "What Coran means to say is that the Gladiator is your next training exercise."

"Fighting robots, huh?" Lance grinned. "Sounds pretty cool."

"Yeah, I don't know about that." Hunk wrung his hands, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "We didn't exactly do all that well against the drones, and those were just little floating orb things."

"Hunk!" Lance yelled, his eyes darting towards the princess. "She doesn't need to know about that!"

Allura merely rolled her eyes, turning her full attention back towards Coran. "Well? Is the Gladiator functional or not?"

"Of course, Princess." Coran said. "I'll get to it right away."

"Then it's decided." Allura said. "The five of you will face the Gladiator. It will be an excellent opportunity to test both you and your bayards."

"Hold on," Adam interrupted, "-I thought Shiro didn't have one of those _bayard _things. How is he supposed to fight?"

Shiro's fingers twitched, realizing that Adam had a point. He might have gotten lucky back on the Galra ship, but it was true that he didn't have anything to defend himself with. According to the princess, the black bayard had been lost with its paladin, making him the only one without a weapon.

That... could be a problem.

Allura apparently agreed, because she turned on her heel to look at him. "A fair point, but this only highlights the need to make other arrangements. Are you any good with weapons?"

"Not really." Shiro admitted. "I'm pretty good with hand to hand, but I don't know how well that's going to work against a robot."

Or the Galra, for that matter.

"In that case, I suppose now is as good a time as any to get you acquainted with one." Allura said. "I don't suppose you have any preferences?"

"I- no. Not really." Shiro replied.

He'd never given any thought to weapons before. The Garrison had classes where cadets could learn how to use firearms, but that had never really been his style, so other than the introductory class that they were all required to take, he'd never really followed up on them. Adam had a little more experience than he did, but...

His gut twisted, a pang of guilt washing over him. Some part of him knew it wasn't rational- it wasn't his fault that they didn't have the black bayard- but he still couldn't help but feel like he was already holding the team back.

Maybe he really _was _the reason they couldn't form Voltron.

"What about my knife?"

Shiro's head snapped up, looking at Keith. He hadn't even realized he'd dropped his gaze to the floor until then. "Your knife?"

Wordlessly, Keith produced the item in question, prompting more than one person to do a questioning double take. While he certainly had questions as to where he was hiding it, it didn't surprise him that Keith had kept his knife on him. He could count the number of times he'd seen him without it on one hand, which was why it had come as such a shock that he'd left it behind when he went to Kerberos.

And why the offer came as such a surprise.

"Are you sure?" Shiro asked. "I thought it was important to you."

"Just for the exercise." Keith shrugged, the edge of his lip quirked in a faint smile. "You can give it back afterwards."

"I suppose that will do for now." Allura said. "Of course, we'll want to find a more permanent solution for your bayard problem moving forward."

Shiro nodded, swallowing a little as he reached out to take the proffered knife. It was a familiar sight to him, but he'd never had the chance to actually _hold it_ before. It was heavier than he'd expected, but the wrappings around the handle helped with the grip. The metal glinted strangely under the Castle's lights, reflecting his image back at him. All he knew about it was that it was some kind of family heirloom, one of the few things Keith still had from the family he never talked about.

And he was entrusting it to _him_.

Sure, only for a few minutes, but still. Trust didn't exactly come easily to Keith, so just the fact that he'd been willing to lend it to him was _huge_.

And strangely... strangely, it made him feel _better_.

"Now that _that's _settled," Allura said, "-we can begin the exercise. Coran?"

"Copy that, princess. And don't worry! We'll start you off easy!" Coran assured them, before glancing towards Adam. "Come on, then. We don't want to get in the way of this."

Adam frowned, briefly hesitating. Shiro caught his eye and gave him a reassuring smile, before he joined the other paladins in formation. Adam watched for a second longer, before he followed Coran and Allura to safety, out of range for whatever sort of robot this _Gladiator _was supposed to be. He wasn't sure what to expect, which just meant that he had to be prepared for _anything_. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing, as they'd almost instinctively formed a ring in the center of the training deck. Each paladin had their bayard drawn and ready, bracing themselves for what was to come.

Everything except for it dropping down _behind _them.

Of them, Keith reacted the fastest, pivoting on his heel with his bayard at the ready to defend himself from any incoming attacks. But as fast he was, the Gladiator was _faster_\- and it's target _wasn't _Keith.

It was Hunk.

Hunk's bayard was the heaviest, but also the slowest. It took the form of a powerful cannon that he barely seemed to be able to control, given that his shots missed his target entirely, aiming at Keith instead. Thankfully he threw his shield up in time, merely grunting at the impact as the Gladiator made quick work of taking Hunk down.

And this was supposed to be _easy_?

The robot itself was taller than even Keith, though not by that much. It was armed with a staff, one that had the ability to produce _electric shocks_. It had only taken one of them to put Hunk out like a light, and even though he was confident that their armor protected them from the worst effects, it still didn't exactly look _pleasant_.

_Speaking _of electric shocks...

Where Hunk fell, Pidge rushed in. He wasn't the only one- all it took was seeing his friend go down, and Lance was ready to charge, his bayard at the ready. It took the form of a rifle- not a huge surprise when Lance's scores in all his firearms courses were actually pretty good, according to Pidge. Speaking of the green paladin, she was small and agile, and had a shocking weapon of her own- a combo attack with the two could work pretty well.

There was just one problem.

Lance had the same problem Hunk did- he didn't expect Pidge to be there when the Gladiator dodged all of his shots. Thankfully, she was able to put her shield up in time, but in doing so she left herself vulnerable, something the Gladiator didn't hesitate to exploit. Before he knew it, both Pidge _and _Lance were out for the count, leaving only him- and Keith.

And Keith _wasn't moving_.

His eyes were wide, fixed on Pidge's fallen form. Abruptly, Shiro realized he wasn't seeing her, but someone _else _in her place.

(Brother and sister looked so much alike.)

In what felt like slow motion, the Gladiator turned towards Keith, raising its staff and _charged_. Shiro felt his heart jerk, gripping the borrowed knife tight. Even if he ran, he wouldn't make it in time.

"Keith!"

Jerking to awareness, Keith moved almost on instinct, knocking the Gladiator's staff out of its hands and kicking it away. Shiro felt himself move before he knew what he was doing, running towards the Gladiator. He caught Keith's eye, the red paladin's lips twitching into a grin as he caught up with him, before shifting towards the robot.

They struck at the same time.

For a long second, nothing happened- and then the Gladiator burst apart into bright light, leaving nothing behind.

"Is it... is it gone?" He heard Hunk ask from behind him.

Letting out a breath, Shiro slowly nodded. "Yeah. I think so."

"Well _that _sucked more than I expected." Lance groaned.

In spite of himself, Shiro snorted, relaxing his shoulders. Glancing over towards Keith, he was relieved that he seemed back to his usual self. He pointedly avoided looking at Pidge, the borrowed knife heavy in his hands with unasked questions.

But Keith trusted him. That was enough for him.

"That was some kick." Shiro said, holding out the knife towards him. "Here. You probably want this back."

"Couldn't have done it without you." Keith said, taking the knife from him and making it disappear back into his armor. "Thanks for the assist."

"Hey, that's what leaders are for, right?" Shiro asked.

Keith smiled, though there was an edge of something to it that dampened the effect. Transforming his bayard back into its default form, he looked towards Allura.

"So what now?" He asked. "Do we fight another of those things?"

"No," Allura said coldly, her disappointment palpable, "-I believe I've seen enough. It's obvious that none of you were ready for this exercise."

Narrowing his eyes, Keith took a step forward. "We beat it, didn't we?"

"Perhaps," Allura agreed, "-but you also simply stood around and watched while three of your fellow paladins were defeated. I would have thought that your time with your planet's military would have taught you a little bit more about working in a _team_."

He could have sworn Keith bared his teeth at the princess, only to slowly exhale, forcing the tension from his shoulders. "I wasn't exactly-"

"Military?" Lance groaned as he sat up. "He wasn't with the military. He was a _mercenary_."

Allura's frown became more pronounced, turning towards Keith with an assessing gaze. "Is this true?"

"_Ex_-mercenary," Keith clarified, locking eyes with the princess, "-I left that life behind me."

Allura held his gaze, the two gazing silently at each other for what felt like an eternity before the princess looked away. In the quiet of the room, he could hear Keith exhale.

"Whatever the case," the princess said, "-all five of you will have to be able to work as a team if you are to have any hope of forming Voltron."

With that, she turned abruptly on her heel and left without another word, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence that lingered for several moments before Lance broke it.

"Well I don't know what _she's _talking about," he said, "-I can work in a team just fine."

"You _shot _me." Pidge glowered, shoving herself up off the floor. "Remember that?"

Lance winced, pointedly avoiding eye contact with her. "Oh yeah."

"I think the princess kind of has a point." Hunk admitted, groaning as he sat up, rubbing where the Gladiator had hit his stomach with its staff. "I kind of shot Keith too. Sorry about that, by the way."

Shoulders slumping, Keith exhaled. "It's fine. I probably should have tried defending you."

"And I could have acted quicker." Shiro admitted. "Guess we're _all _pretty new at this whole teamwork thing, huh?"

Keith snorted. "You can say that again."

"Well, what's done is done." Shiro said, hoping that sound leader-like. "What's next, Coran?"

"_Please _tell me it's not more drones." Hunk whined.

"No worries, no drones for this next activity." Coran said. "Actually, I was thinking now would be just as good a time as any to break for lunch. Why don't you all take a short break, and meet me in the dining hall in ten quintants?"

"Ten what?" Pidge asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Minutes," Adam automatically replied, "-he means ten minutes."

"Well, whatever you call it," Coran said, "-make sure to be there on time. I don't think the princess will be too happy if any of you are late."

Exchanging a glance between them, Shiro felt confident that not wanting to make the princess any angrier was something that they could _all _agree on.

Besides, a break would be nice.

* * *

Lunch was _not _a break.

"Welcome," Coran had said, with a glint of what was either mischief or malice in his eyes, "-to your final bonding exercise of the day."

Shiro pretended he didn't hear Adam's snort. Glancing over towards Hunk, the yellow paladin sheepishly glanced at their linked hands, before turning his head to glance awkwardly over towards Lance. The blue paladin groaned, glancing next to him at Keith, who looked torn between irritation and bemusement, silently communicating something with Pidge, who just looked _beyond _annoyed.

They were supposed to feed each other like they were a pack of yalmors, Coran had said. Whatever a _yalmor _was.

So much for a peaceful lunch.

They'd been struggling for a few minutes when Allura walked in, the same sour expression on her face from earlier. She sat down without giving them so much as a look and began eating- without having to _literally _be cuffed to anyone else, he noted sourly.

But even that, he could endure. _They _could endure.

It was only when the princess crinkled her nose, casting an annoyed glance in their direction and asked if Earthlings ever _stopped _complaining, that Shiro felt something snap inside of him.

"Can't you just give us a break?" He asked, drawing on every ounce of his Garrison training to keep his tone civil. "We've all been working really hard today."

"And what do you have to show for it?" Allura asked, her eyes narrowing. "You've yet to come close to forming Voltron."

"Well _excuse us_ for not learning how to fly giant mechanical cats in a day." Pidge rolled her eyes. "Why don't _you _do it if it's so easy?"

Something akin to genuine hurt flickered through Allura's eyes, but it was gone just as quick, smothered. "If I could fly the lions myself, then believe me, I _would_."

"Can't you just use that mystical bond thingy you have with the lions and make it work?" Hunk asked. "You can do that, right?"

"My bond with the lions only enables me to find them," Allura said, "-not to do your job for you."

"Then maybe you should leave _our _job to _us_." Keith snapped. "We'll figure it out. We just need time and less of you _breathing down our necks_."

Coran bristled. "You do not speak to the princess that way!"

"Oh, the princess of _what_?" Pidge shot back. "We're the only ones here, and she's no princess of ours!"

He'd expected Allura to say something back to that sure, but what he didn't expect was for her to fling a spoonful of food goo straight at Pidge's face. She could barely even react for those first few seconds, before she sprung to her feet and launched a counterattack, flinging her own plate of goo towards the princess, one that Coran effortlessly deflected back at them with nothing more than a towel.

That's where things got a little... _chaotic_.

The next thing he knew, food goo was _everywhere_. No one was spared from the stuff- well, except for Adam, who had wisely ducked underneath the table almost as soon as the goo started to fly. He knew he shouldn't have encouraged this, much less joined in. He was supposed to be the leader, supposed to set an example for the other paladins. Getting into a food fight with an alien princess didn't _exactly _sound like the kind of thing _defenders of the universe_ did.

But hey, after the day they'd had, there was something almost _cathartic _about doing something as childish as getting into a food fight.

Besides, the princess had started it.

_Speaking _of the princess...

She collapsed in one of the chairs, seemingly defeated. For a brief second there was silence, before he and the rest of the paladins exchanged a look with one another, a bubble of laughter escaping.

"_Enough!_" Allura's shout cut their laughter short. "Don't you see what you're doing?"

Shiro flinched, abruptly remembering his supposed role. He knew he should have-

But when Allura looked up, she wasn't scowling. She didn't even look _disappointed_. If anything, she looked...

..._delighted_?

"You're finally working together as one!"

Shiro blinked, then blinked again, before glancing at his fellow paladins. She... had a point, actually. Despite being _literally chained together_, they'd managed to work together flawlessly, even if it _had _been just for a silly food fight. And yet...

...he couldn't help but feel like it was more than _just _a silly food fight.

"She's right," he heard himself say, "-we were. We _did_."

"Maybe we should do it." Keith said, catching his eye.

Shiro quirked a faint grin, if only because there was something deeply hilarious about seeing someone he knew other people feared because of his reputation covered in dripping green goo. Granted, he probably didn't look too much better himself.

"Form Voltron?" Pidge asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Hunk agreed, "-maybe we should."

"Yeah!" Lance cheered. "I'm totally getting that Voltron feeling!"

"Then let's do it." Shiro grinned, the changed mood downright infectious. "Let's form Voltron!"

"That's great and all," Adam said, poking his head out from under the table, now that it was safe, "-but don't you think you should clean up first?"

"...right after we clean up first!"

* * *

Forming Voltron was amazing.

No, it was _incredible_.

They could do this, he thought to himself, basking in the feeling. They really _could _do this.

* * *

"That was _amazing_!"

He'd barely walked in the door before Adam threw his arms around him, a broad grin on his face. Swept up in the infectious mood, Shiro wrapped his arms around him, delivering a quick kiss to his boyfriend's lips. Honestly, he would have made it longer, but out of courtesy for the fact that they weren't alone, he kept it short.

"And there they go," Pidge remarked, a bemused expression on her face as she leaned back on one of the couches, "-right on schedule."

"I think it's cute." Hunk said. "Kind of makes me wish _I _had a boyfriend. Or, you know, a girlfriend. That would be good too. I'm not picky."

"It _was _pretty amazing though, right?" Lance grinned. "I mean, I thought just flying the blue lion was cool, but man! I'm so hyped up, I don't know if I'll even be able to sleep tonight!"

"I think I know what you mean." Shiro said, disentangling himself from Adam, before noticing the pronounced absence in the room. "Where's Keith?"

Pidge shrugged. "I asked him to join us, but he said he had some stuff to do."

Shiro frowned, exchanging a glance with Adam, who just shrugged. The news didn't exactly surprise him- Keith had never exactly been the social sort, and after spending most of the day hanging around people he barely knew, it didn't shock him that he might want some time to himself. Still, he'd kind of been hoping for the chance to talk to him.

Guess it could wait.

"Eh," Lance shrugged, "-probably better that he said no. Don't think I could relax with _mister ex-mercenary_ around."

"I don't know," Hunk frowned, "-I mean, I thought he would be super mad at me for accidentally shooting him during training, but he didn't even get upset."

Lance hummed in consideration, though he still looked skeptical. "I guess that's true."

"Keith's not a bad guy," Shiro promised, "-just awkward."

Pidge snorted, a knowing look on her face. He caught her eye, and she caught his, sharing a brief moment of silent communication before she broke it off with a grin.

"Lance is just a big fan of Lieutenant Griffin." Pidge said.

Ah. Arching a brow, Shiro glanced over towards the blue paladin who simply shrugged in response.

"What can I say," he said, "-the Lieutenant's cool. Way cooler than anyone who ties back his hair with _rubber bands_."

"You have to admit," Adam began, "-that's fair."

"Just don't let Keith hear you say that." Shiro said. "Anyways, I'm going to head to bed. It's been a long day, and we get up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I think I'll turn in too." Hunk said, already getting to his feet. "You coming, Pidge?"

"I think I'll hang out here for awhile longer." Pidge said.

"Eh, suit yourself." Lance shrugged, getting up.

"What happened about not being able to sleep?" Adam asked.

"That was _before _Shiro mentioned getting up early tomorrow." Lance said. "Lancey-Lance needs his beauty rest."

"_Lancey-Lance_ needs to come up with better nicknames for himself," Pidge muttered underneath her breath.

"What was that?" Lance asked.

"Nothing!" Pidge smiled.

Lance squinted at her for a few seconds, before shrugging. He caught up with Hunk, the two of them chattering about something just out of earshot as he trailed behind with Adam.

"So," Adam began, glancing at him, "-rough day?"

In spite of himself, Shiro laughed.

* * *

Ulaz's transponder felt heavy in his hands.

Perched atop the red lion, Keith stared down at the little device. Today had been so busy that he hadn't had much of a chance to think about his next step. Hearing that the prisoners they'd rescued wouldn't be getting out of their cryopods until tomorrow had relaxed him a little, but all too soon, that feeling had caught up with him.

He had two choices, and neither of them were good.

Heaving a sigh, he wrapped his fingers around the transponder. In truth, his mind was already made up.

The red lion rumbled, shifting into a crouch as he stood up. Leaping down from her head, Keith paused for a moment to glance up at the lion, a faint smile crossing his face. Honestly, he'd been uncertain when Allura had first told him that he was supposed to be a paladin, but after connecting with the red lion, he couldn't shake the feeling that she'd been right.

Reaching out, he touched the red lion's jaw. "Good kitty."

Taking in a deep breath, Keith pocketed the transponder, tucking his hands into his jacket. Heading out of the red lion's hangar, he made a beeline for his destination, having already resolved himself to deal with whatever happened as a result of his decision. Stepping onto the bridge with more noise than was wholly necessary, he met the princess' eyes.

"Keith?" Allura frowned. "I thought you would have been with the other paladins?"

"Actually," he began, "-there's something I need to tell you."


End file.
